;-NRLF 


C A, 


ONE   SUMMER.    A  Novel.     Illustrated  by  AUGUSTUS  HOP- 
PIN.     i2mo,  $1.25. 

ONE  YEAR  ABROAD.    European  Travel  Sketches.     i8mo, 
£1.25. 

THE   OPEN    DOOR.     12010,^1.50. 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND   COMPANY. 

BOSTON  AND  NEW  YOPK. 


r 


-••  • 


THE  OPEN  DOOR 


BY 


BLANCHE   WILLIS    HOWARD 

ii 

AUTHOR  OF  "  ONE  SUMMER,"   "  GUKNN,"   "  ONE  YEAR  ABROAD,"  ETC. 


BOSTON    AND    NEW   YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN   AND   COMPANY 
(Stlbe  Cttoer?'iDg  ^r?^, 


Copyright,  1889, 
B*  BLANCHE  WILLIS  HOWARD. 

All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  P*ress,  Cambridge: 
Electrotyped  aud  Priated  by  H.  0.  Houghton  &  Co. 


"  Laissez-moi  faire  a  loisir  le  tissu  ne  notre  roman,  et  n'en 
pressez  pas  tant  la  conclusion," 

MOLIEKE. 


912877 


THE   OPEN  DOOR ,    ; , ;  .•  /, 


CHAPTER    I. 

"  WHAT  are  you  going  to  be  when  you  are  a  man  ?  " 
the  Countess  von  Kronfels'  guests  would  ask  hand 
some  little  Hugo,  as  he  pranced  about  the  cheerful 
samovar,  begging  for  nine  lumps  of  sugar  in  his  infin- 
itesimally  diluted  tea. 

"  King!  "  the  child  would  reply  with  superb  convic 
tion,  straightening  his  four-year-old  back,  and  regard 
ing  them  an  instant  with  bold,  unconscious  eyes,  before 
resuming  his  quest.  Why  the  ladies  always  made  this 
inquiry,  and  why  they  always  laughed  at  his  reply,  he 
did  not  deign  to  consider.  Indeed,  he  scarcely  noticed 
them.  He  was  too  busy,  too  serious,  too  intent  upon 
pleasantly  personal  matters.  Sweets  for  the  moment, 
royalty  later ;  such  was  his  clearly  denned  sketch  of 
existence.  But  Fate  drew  other  lines. 

More  than  a  score  of  swift  years  passed.  The  child 
became  a  man.  His  throne  was  an  invalid's  chair ; 
his  sceptre,  a  crutch  ;  his  crown,  pain. 

He  had  had,  indeed,  his  bright,  brief  reign,  his 
goodly  share  of  the  purple  state  which  by  the  grace  of 
this  obsequious  world  encompasses  the  heir  to  an  old 
name  and  large  wealth ;  and  he  had  revelled  in  that 
more  glorious  sovereignty  which  nature  may  deny  a 
prince  and  lovingly  bestow  upon  a  vagabond,  —  the 
absolute  monarchy  of  youth,  beauty,  and  strength, 
the  kingship  of  a  fearless  spirit. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

His  golden  days  were  dead  and  gone.  One  Sep 
tember  0veiim<r  four  men,  with  blanched  faces  and  slow 
and  heavy  tread,  bore  his  unconscious  body  through 
tli^i  lori^*  l-rJl,  past  a  group  of  frightened  servants,  to 
his  own  rooms.  His  young  strength  fought  hard  for 
life.  His  soul  balanced  many  weeks  between  this 
world  and  the  next.  At  length  the  suave  doctors  pro 
nounced  him  "  saved,"  which  meant,  being  inter 
preted,  that  his  broken  machinery  had  been  cleverly 
repaired,  that  the  ugly  wound  on  his  head  was  healing, 
and  that  everything,  indeed,,  was  highly  gratifying, 
except  the  recalcitrant  spine,  which,  refusing  to  re 
spond  to  the  skill  of  world-renowned  specialists,  threat 
ened  to  make  him  a  cripple  for  life. 

After  six  months'  seclusion,  the  invalid  felt  a  strong 
and  sudden  longing  for  the  coming  spring,  and  ex 
pressed  a  wish  to  be  taken  out  into  the  garden.  "  Put 
me  out  there,  anywhere,"  he  said  in  the  scornful  tone 
with  which  he  always  now  alluded  to  himself,  and  the 
servants  carried  him  with  clumsy  kindness  across  the 
threshold.  Although  nearly  as  helpless  as  the  dull 
dead  weight  brought  in  a  half-year  before,  he  was  now 
painfully  sentient  and  tortured  by  a  hot  and  rebellious 
soul. 

Wrapped  in  furs,  pale,  motionless,  his  eyes  closed, 
he  lay  back  in  his  wheel  chair,  where  the  noon  sun 
shine  fell  warmest  on  the  lawn>  and  no  straight-legged 
peasant-boy,  tramping  by  lustily  to  Leslach,  but  was 
more  "  king  "  than  Count  Hugo. 

"  You  can  go,  Lipps,"  he  said  to  his  servant. 

Lipps  adjusted  a  rug,  moved  the  chair  a  half -inch 
to  the  right  and  waited,  his  eyes  fixed  like  a  dog's 
upon  his  master's  face. 

"  You  can  go,  I  say,"  repeated  the  invalid  wearily. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  3 

Lipps  readjusted  the  rug,  and  moved  the  chair  a 
half-inch  to  the  left. 

"  Good  heavens,  man,"  began  the  count  vehemently, 
his  dark  eyes  looking  unnaturally  large  and  brilliant 
in  the  pale,  thin  face,  "  can't  you  leave  me  alone  ? 
Have  n't  I  had  you  pottering  about  all  winter  ?  Can't 
you  obey  orders  ?  Can't  you  let  me  "  —  he  hesitated, 
then  added  bitterly  —  "  enjoy  myself  ?  " 

Lipps's  stolid  face  brightened  at  the  familiar  out 
break. 

"  The  count  was  so  pale  and  his  eyes  were  shut,"  he 
explained  apologetically. 

"  You  thought  I  was  going  to  shrivel  up  like  one  of 
those  frost-bitten  snow-drops  ?  " 

Lipps  grinned. 

"  You  —  donkey  !  "  remarked  the  count,  in  a  low, 
pleasant  voice,  and  with  a  kindly  glance  at  the  man. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  returned  Lipps  cheerfully. 

"  No  such  luck  for  me,"  muttered  the  count. 
"  There,  there,  don't  stand  and  stare  like  a  Chinese 
idol !  Go  off,  now.  You  will  find  my  sacred  person 
all  here  an  hour  later,  —  every  fragment  of  it.  No 
body  wants  to  steal  me.  Lipps,  if  you  don't  want  me 
to  swear,  take  your  stupid  eyes  off  me  !  Oh,  I  know 
very  well  what  is  the  matter  with  you." 

Lipps  looked  abjectly  conscious  of  guilt. 

"  Come,  come,  Lipps,  out  with  it.  Speak  up  like 
a  man,  and  confess  that  you  suspect  me  of  having 
arsenic  or  a  dagger  concealed  in  the  tragic  folds  of 
my  dressing-gown.  Or,  perhaps,  I  'm  going  to  swal 
low  my  crutch  ? "  the  count  went  on  languidly. 
"  Lipps,  there  are  things  one  does  n't  talk  about,  you 
know,  but  really  you  weary  me  with  your  anxious 
watchdog  ways.  You  are  uneasy.  What  is  more, 


4  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

you  have  removed  my  pistols  from  their  old  place  on 
my  wall." 

"  I  only  thought  that  the  count  would  n't  be  likely 
to  be  wanting  them  for  anything  just  now,"  stammered 
the  man,  shamefaced  and  conscience-stricken  ;  "  that 
is,  not  till  he  's  well  and  strong  again." 

"  Precisely.  And  the  pistols  took  up  room  on  the 
wall  where  you  wanted  to  hang  medicine-bottles,  or 
bandages,  or  books,  or  something.  All  very  reason 
able.  That  mask  of  hopeless  idiocy  does  not  help  you, 
my  poor  fellow.  And  I  have  to  speak  at  last,  because 
you  bore  me  unmercifully,  you  make  me  nervous, 
Lipps.  If  you  don't  treat  me  better,  the  doctor  will 
send  you  about  your  business." 

Lipps  grinned  with  delight  at  this  pleasantry.  He 
knew  that  no  mortal  power  could  send  him  away  from 
Count  Hugo. 

"  But  seriously,  Lipps,  the  next  time  you  see  me  ex 
amining  any  object,  don't  feel  called  upon  to  secrete  it, 
the  moment  you  think  I  am  asleep,"  the  count  resumed 
with  great  sweetness  of  manner,  "  and  you  go  into  the 
house  now  and  put  those  pistols  where  they  belong. 
And  be  perfectly  easy  in  your  mind  about  me." 

"  The  count  is  getting  well  as  fast  as  ever  he  can," 
Lipps  declared  stoutly. 

"  Undoubtedly,"  Count  Hugo  returned  with  a  cu 
rious  smile.  "  But  you  see,  Lipps,  if  you  are  fool 
enough  to  be  attached  to  a  man  who  abuses  you  sys 
tematically,  and  swears  at  you  when  his  pain  is  bad, 
and  has  even  been  known  to  fling  his  crutch  after  you  ; 
if  you  tend  him  like  a  baby,  and  sit  up  nights  with 
him,  and  refuse  your  legitimate  Sunday  out,  and  for 
get  your  beer,  —  some  fine  day  you  will  find  yourself 
in  a  retreat  for  aged  imbeciles." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  5 

"  The  count  never  swears  at  me  except  when  I  de 
serve  it,"  Lipps  protested. 

"  There,  go  in  peace,  you  great  soft-hearted  phe 
nomenon,  and  no  more  nonsense,  you  understand,  — 
no  more  foolish  fancies.  Go  now.  You  tire  me.  You 
make  me  talk.  The  noises  out  here  are  too  much  for 
me.  I  never  knew  the  world  was  so  loud.  I  must  be 
born  again ;  yes,  here  is  the  whistle.  If  I  have  the 
ghost  of  a  wish  I  will  summon  you." 

He  closed  his  eyes.  Lipps,  having  basked  again  in 
the  invalid's  affectionate  smile,  and  reassured  by  his 
bantering  tone,  withdrew  reluctantly,  looking  back 
over  his  shoulder  at  the  outstretched,  motionless  fig 
ure,  and  walking  cautiously,  on  tiptoe,  across  the  turf. 

It  was  a  mild  day  toward  the  last  of  February. 
The  chill  of  winter  lingered  in  the  shade,  and  the 
west  wind,  sweeping  up  at  intervals  from  the  Cold  Val 
ley,  sent  an  occasional  sharp  gust  across  the  invalid's 
face.  But  the  sunshine  was  strong  and  full  of  prom 
ise,  the  stir  and  thrill  of  spring  were  in  the  air,  in 
every  swelling  bud  in  the  villa-garden,  in  every  slen 
der,  yearning  twig  of  the  bare  shrubbery  near  him. 
Men  were  working  in  the  vineyards  on  the  broad  hill 
behind  the  house,  and  in  the  market-gardens  skirting 
the  slope  below  it.  Hungry  crows  were  cawing  and 
circling  heavily  over  freshly  up-turned  fields.  It  was 
a  land  of  hills.  Irregular  lines  of  them  intersected 
one  another  abruptly,  never  rising  to  the  sublimity  of 
mountains,  yet  presenting  an  ever-varying  landscape 
of  plain,  valley,  and  height ;  and  of  long,  fair  reaches, 
overhung  with  fleeting,  bluish  mists.  Down  in  the 
valley  lay  the  city  with  its  large  vague  murmur,  and 
dense  smoke  columns  rising  from  many  factory-chim 
neys,  black  and  tall  in  the  hazy  atmosphere,  like 


6  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

huge  guardian  spirits  of  toil  and  traffic  watching  over 
their  own. 

"  It  is  like  the  ocean  —  far  away  —  at  night," 
thought  Hugo,  used  to  the  extreme  quiet  of  his  rooms. 
"  It  is  the  distant  roar,  not  of  waves,  but  of  life ;  and 
I  —  I  am  worse  than  dead." 

The  -villa  stood  on  a  broad,  handsomely  curving 
street  at  the  west  end  of  the  city,  and  in  the  late 
count's  days  seemed  fairly  out  of  town  in  its  semi- 
rural  solitude.  But  the  city  had  stretched  grasping 
arms  up  to  it  and  beyond,  toward  the  village  of  Les- 
lach,  and  with  a  rapid  growth  of  cottages  and  stately 
houses  was  steadily  pushing  the  country-element  far 
ther  west.  A  huge  sandstone  structure  was  building 
directly  beyond  the  villa  garden,  and  the  scaffolding 
of  another  high  house  was  already  up.  Hugo  heard 
the  incessant  click  of  scores  of  chisels  on  blocks  of 
stone,  the  irregular  fall  of  mallets,  the  harsh  rhythm 
of  saws  and  planes,  the  tread  of  slow  hoofs  as  carts 
were  backed  up,  the  unloading  of  bricks,  the  rattle 
of  spades  against  pebbly  earth,  and  the  voices  of  vig 
orous,  hard-working  men ;  and  to  all  these  common 
sounds  he  listened  as  if  for  the  first  time,  and  to 
his  painfully  acute  senses,  each  separate  tone  in  this 
powerful  symphony  of  work  taunted  him  with  his 
helplessness. 

"  Oh,  my  lost  strength,"  he  sighed,  "  my  good  lost 
strength !  " 

High  on  the  stone  house,  an  inconsequent  oriel- 
window  leaped  out  to  surprise  the  passer-by,  and  had 
the  air  of  being  a  merry  caprice  on  the  part  of  the 
architect.  Here,  under  a  rude  canvas  shelter,  a 
young  stone-carver  was  working  on  the  massive  head 
of  a  broad-eyed  deity  with  ringlets,  —  a  Pomona, 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  7 

possibly,  since  a  horticultural  exhibition  of  amazing 
variety  flanked  the  goddess  on  either  side.  Chiselling 
his  solid  fruits,  the  man  on  his  high  perch  sang  in 
a  high,  fresh  tenor,  and  every  one  who  listened  was 
glad  at  heart  for  the  glad  song,  except  Count  Hugo. 

"  It  hurts  to  hear  the  fellow  sing  like  that,"  he 
groaned. 

The  clock  on  St.  Mary's  church  tower  struck  twelve. 
Hugo  could  see  the  spire  from  where  he  lay.  The 
factories  responded  with  their  long  shrieking  whistles, 
and  the  bells  proclaimed  the  noon  rest.  From  the 
great  gymnasium,  whose  roof  was  visible  from  the 
villa  garden,  a  thousand  schoolboys  came  tumbling 
out,  and  the  hum  of  their  riotous  voices,  the  scuffling 
of  their  turbulent  feet  on  the  pavements,  the  shrill 
laughter  and  shouts  of  the  happy  young  mob  sent  up 
new  and  painful  waves  of  sound  to  the  still  listener. 
The  men  ceased  work,  except  the  carver,  who  tapped 
busily  with  his  mallet  and  sang  on.  Some  of  the  ma 
sons,  with  blue  blouses  and  brawny  arms,  passed  by, 
singly,  and  in  groups.  Wives  and  sisters  and  sweet 
hearts  brought  bread  and  beer  in  little  baskets.  Hugo 
could  hear  the  careless  laughter  following  some  rough 
joke.  A  squad  of  infantry  marched,  singing,  down  an 
adjacent  street.  He  listened  to  their  measured  tramp 
and  the  loud  swinging  folk-song.  Some  red-capped 
schoolboys  had  climbed  the  hill,  and  were  making 
prodigious  leaps,  with  poles  snatched  from  the  build 
ing  materials. 

It  seemed  to  the  cripple  that  the  whole  wide  world 
was  teeming  with  movement,  color,  contrast,  and 
happy  unrest ;  that  out  of  the  silent  earth  pulsating 
life  was  reaching  up  about  him ;  that  new,  myste 
rious  strength  stirred  in  the  cool  and  sunny  air  that 


8  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

touched  his  cheek ;  that  everywhere  was  force  —  for 
all  the  world,  but  not  for  him  —  force  that  in  cruel 
irony  mocked  his  weakness. 

"  If  my  spirit  were  but  crippled  too !  If  I  need 
not  hear  or  see  or  feel !  If  I  did  not  long  with 
every  atom  of  my  being  for  life,  —  strong,  glad  life  !  " 

Hoofs  came  clattering  up  the  street.  A  young 
horse  plunged  by  in  a  clumsy  hard  gallop,  the  blue 
and  white  and  silver  of  his  rider's  uniform  brilliant 
in  the  sunlight. 

Hugo  shuddered  and  shrank  under  his  furs,  as  if 
he  would  conceal  himself  from  every  eye. 

"  My  God,"  he  groaned,  "  I  was  like  that !  I,  even 
I !  And  now  I  am  an  old  man.  Old,  at  twenty- 
seven.  Worse  than  an  old  man,  for  my  heart  is  hot 
within  me.  Worse  than  dead,  infinitely  worse." 

Bitter  rebellion  shook  his  soul,  fierce  protest  against 
the  laws  that  held  him  in  the  bondage  of  joyless  life. 

"They  shot  my  poor  Comet,  when  they  found  he 
was  done  for.  Why  were  they  less  merciful  to  me  ?  " 

The  noisy,  leaping  boys  had  run  home.  The  street 
was  stiller.  Some  of  the  workmen  were  lying  out 
stretched  in  the  sunshine  on  the  sandstone  blocks, 
and  some  were  smoking  their  pipes  against  the  wall, 
and  ruminating  in  dull  content.  A  little  bare-armed 
baby,  with  a  red  blanket  pinned  over  its  head,  cooed 
and  crowed  in  the  arms  of  the  singer,  who  was 
neglecting  his  dinner  to  play  with  it.  The  young 
mother  stood  awkwardly  swinging  her  empty  basket, 
and  smiling  on  the  child. 

"  Wait  till  you  Ve  got  a  half  dozen  of  your  own, 
Dietz,"  called  out  baby's  recumbent  papa  from  his 
sunny  sandstone  couch,  "and  you  won't  be  leaving 
your  grub  to  fool  with  devil  a  one  of  them." 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  9 

"  Not  much,"  some  of  the  others  joined  in,  with  a 
laugh. 

Dietz  had  slow  ways  and  the  baby's  hands  were 
clutching  his  beard,  but  at  length  he  turned  his  head 
toward  the  men,  and,  smiling  at  them  an  instant  be 
fore  he  spoke,  "  Why  not  ?  "  he  said  tranquilly,  then 
resumed  his  attentions  to  the  little  red  bundle. 

Hugo's  face  was  weary  and  drawn  as  if  from  bodily 
pain. 

"  And  why  should  they  not  laugh  ?  "  he  asked  him 
self.  "  I  am  a  weak  fool.  Have  I  not  exhausted  the 
subject  of  me  and  my  future  ?  Have  I  not  chosen 
my  course  ?  I  am  the  meanest  kind  of  philosopher. 
Not  one  of  those  old  fellows  would  own  me.  Patience, 
Seneca !  Give  me  a  little  time.  Fling  an  empty- 
headed  dragoon  into  a  ditch,  and  does  he  arise  a  full- 
fledged  Stoic  ?  " 

He  smiled  faintly  with  satirical  recognition  of  his 
shortcomings.  "It  would  be  easy  enough,"  he  re 
flected.  "  There  are  a  dozen  ways.  I  have  had  time 
to  reduce  the  thing  to  a  science  this  winter,  while 
poor  old  Lipps  thinks  that  he  has  removed  the  danger 
with  the  pistols.  A  pity  he  took  alarm.  Though  I 
think  I  have  pacified  him  now.  Unaccountable,  this 
thing  we  call  affection  ;  the  man  is  dull,  yet  he  read 
me  like  an  open  book.  No,  no,  he  must  not  be  made 
uncomfortable.  That  is,  not  beforehand.  I  must  see 
to  that." 

"  I  should  never,  indeed,  choose  an  explosive  exit, 
when  a  quiet  one  was  attainable.  Now  here 's  the 
sharp  point  of  a  penknife,  and  there  's  an  artery. 
Two  and  two  are  four  —  and  all  is  well.  My  mother 
would  wear  Paris  mourning,  and  Lipps  for  some 
months  would  be  more  stupid  than  ever.  Countess 


10  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Mercedes  would  burn  some  relics.  So  would  little 
Laura  at  the  Varietes.  Then  each  would  act  her 
part,  one  in  the  world,  the  other  on  the  stage,  as  be 
fore.  Not  one  soul  would  really  mourn,  except,  per 
haps,  Lipps.  It  may  be  a  delusion  born  of  my  weak 
state,  but  I  believe  the  man  loves  me  better  than  his 
pipe,  and  sometimes,  when  I  meditate  crossing  the 
border,  the  thought  of  his  heavy  perplexity  and  dull 
regret,  should  he  seek  and  not  find  his  querulous, 
exacting  master,  holds  me  back  like  a  rough,  honest 
hand. 

"  And  my  father  !  Why  does  he  restrain  me  ?  My 
father,  with  his  wise,  satirical  face,  and  his  overween 
ing  pride  in  his  good-for-nothing  son.  Pride  !  Well, 
when  a  brilliant  old  bachelor  marries  at  fifty,  his  only 
son  is  necessarily  a  marvel,  and  even  an  old  diplomate 
may  have  one  weakness.  It  is  a  sick  fancy,  easily 
explained  by  the  hole  in  my  head  and  the  fever,  but 
when  I  am  near  —  quite  near  the  end  of  all  this  wea 
riness,  I  see  him,  his  positive  self,  not  tragic,  no  pose, 
no  theatre-ghost  —  he  could  not  be  ill-bred  and  mel 
odramatic  in  any  phase  of  being ;  but  all  the  same  I 
see  him,  his  quiet,  smiling  presence,  and  I  hear  his 
mocking  yet  tender  voice,  as  of  old  when  I  flew  into 
a  great  passion:  'Seize  the  advantage,  Hugo.  The 
mills  of  the  gods  grind  slowly.  All  things  have  their 
ebb  and  flow.  Seize  the  advantage,  my  son.'  He 
would  have  seized  the  advantage  of  his  own  mistakes, 
of  a  friend's  treachery,  of  famine,  flood,  and  pesti 
lence  ;  no  doubt  of  an  injured  spine  and  helplessness. 
But  he  was  wise,  and  I  am  a  hot-hearted  fool,  fighting 
fate,  then  passive  from  sheer  weariness,  until  a  trifle, 
a  breath  of  air,  a  sweet  sound,  rouses  old  longings, 
and  the  struggle  begins  anew. 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  11 

"  Now  what  if  there  were  an  advantage  ?  It  would 
be  a  vastly  clever  thing  to  find  it,  upon  my  word !  " 

He  smiled  drearily,  and  taking  a  note-book  from 
an  inner  pocket,  began  to  turn  the  leaves  listlessly. 

"  Who  would  ever  suspect  me  of  making  friends 
with  these  worthies?  One  man  in  a  dungeon  occu 
pied  himself  with  a  flower,  and  another  with  a  mouse, 
and  I  in  mine  with  my  wise  father's  books. 

"  Here  you  are,  old  Seneca !  Now  what  have  you 
to  say  about  it  ? 

" '  Do  you  seek  the  way  to  freedom  ?  You  may 
find  it  in  every  vein  of  your  body.  The  eternal  law 
has  decreed  nothing  better  than  this,  that  life  should 
have  but  one  entrance  and  many  exits.  Why  should 
I  endure  the  agonies  of  disease  when  I  can  emanci 
pate  myself  from  all  my  torments  and  shake  off  every 
bond  ?  For  this  reason,  and  for  this  alone,  life  is  not 
an  evil ;  that  no  one  is  obliged  to  live.  The  lot  of 
man  is  happy  because  no  one  continues  wretched  but 
by  his  fault.  If  life  pleases  you,  live.  If  not,  you 
have  a  right  to  return  whence  you  came.'  " 

He  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"  Old  Seneca,  old  Seneca,  there  are  some  glowing 
embers  in  your  ashes.  There  is  a  throb  of  passion 
somewhere  here  !  There  's  a  protest  against  pain. 
You  plead  too  much,  old  Seneca.  You  had  not  tram 
pled  upon  yourself  enough  when  you  wrote  that,  my 
friend.  I,  an  ex-dragoon,  accuse  you  of  feeling.  No, 
no,  your  sentiments  are  not  lofty  enough  for  me.  If 
I  'm  going  in  for  philosophy,  I  want  the  unadulter 
ated  article." 

Again  he  turned  the  leaves  of  the  little  black  book, 
closely  and  faintly  written  in  pencil,  the  companion 
of  many  hours  of  pain  and  loneliness. 


12  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Something  cold  and  temperate  suits  me.  And 
there  's  one  of  those  estimable  old  heathen  —  I  forget 
which  —  whose  talk  is  as  passionless  as  a  peak  of  the 
High  Engadine.  Ah,  here  he  is  :  — 

"  '  Above  all  things  remember  that  the  door  is  open. 
Be  not  more  timid  than  boys  at  play.  As  they,  when 
they  cease  to  take  pleasure  in  their  games,  declare 
that  they  will  no  longer  play,  so  do  you  when  all 
things  begin  to  pall  upon  you,  retire.  But  if  you  stay, 
do  not  complain.' 

"  With  that,  all  is  said,"  thought  Hugo,  re-reading 
the  passage  slowly.  "  Epictetus,  you  're  my  man ! 
The  door  is  open.  If  you  wish,  retire  —  I  like  that 
*  retire,'  —  if  you  stay,  do  not  complain.  Stay  or  go, 
but  don't  whine.  That's  sense.  It  appeals  to  me. 
It  is  curt  and  —  military." 

Horse's  hoofs  sounded  again.  The  lieutenant  of 
dragoons  had  mastered  his  strong  and  awkward  young 
animal,  and  was  walking  him  panting  down  the  street, 
now  and  then  giving  him  a  condescending  stroke  of 
approval  which  told  him  he  was  a  good  fellow  to  let 
himself  be  conquered  by  the  weaker  party. 

A  bugle-call  echoed  along  the  opposite  hills.  A 
young  girl's  laugh  sounded  fresh  and  free. 

Hugo's  face  set  slightly,  then  relaxed  into  a  derisive 
smile. 

"  Oh,  rawest  recruit  among  the  philosophers !  I 
must  learn  to  hear  hoofs  and  bugles  and  woman's 
laughter  unmoved,  if  I  stay;  and  I  will  stay,  for  a 
while  at  least,  since,  thank  God,  'the  door  is  open.'  " 
The  rider  was  passing  the  gates. 

"  Good  fellow  !  Good  Ajax  !  "  he  said  to  the  pow 
erful,  panting  brute. 

"  Why,  it 's  Raven  !  "    and  Hugo  instantly  blew  a 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  13 

long  shrill  note  on  a  silver  whistle  attached  to  his 
chair. 

The  horseman  involuntarily  halted,  and  peered  with 
good-humored  inquiry  into  the  garden,  while  Lipps 
precipitated  himself  out  of  a  conservatory  window  and 
hastened  breathless  to  his  idol. 

"  Open  the  gates  for  Lieutenant  von  Raven,  and 
beg  him  to  come  in,"  said  Hugo,  surprised  at  his  own 
animation. 

Lipps  ran  down  the  drive,  swung  open  the  gate,  and 
Lorenz  von  Raven  rode  in.  Seeing  Hugo,  he  dis 
mounted,  but  before  he  spoke  to  the  invalid,  he  said: 

"He's  wet,  Lipps.  Lead  him  up  and  down  the 
court-yard,  will  you?"  His  attention  divided  between 
his  retreating  horse  and  Hugo,  he  advanced  with  a 
broad  smile  on  his  ruddy  face. 

"Upon  my  word!  —  my  dear  fellow  —  really  now!  " 
he  ejaculated  with  friendly  incoherence,  and  a  queer 
disjointed  manner,  laughing  a  little,  aimlessly,  stretch 
ing  and  straightening  his  handsomely  booted  and 
spurred  cavalry-legs,  and  switching  a  sumach  bush  with 
his  whip. 

"  How  are  you,  Lorenz  ?  "  Hugo  began  quietly,  ex 
tending  his  hand  in  welcome.  "  I  hope  you  did  n't 
mind  my  whistling.  It 's  a  novel  way  to  call  a  com 
rade.  '  Is  thy  servant  a  dog  ? '  you  might  retort,  but 
I  'm  glad  that  you  don't  feel  inclined  to." 

"  Oh  dear,  no  !  Of  course  I  did  n't  mind  that.  I 
didn't  see  you  at  first." 

"  I  suppose  not.  Lipps  seems  to  have  deposited 
me  in  a  very  good  place  for  seeing  and  not  being 
seen." 

"Indeed,"  muttered  Lorenz,  absently.  The  airy 
preliminaries  over,  he  felt  ill  at  ease  before  this  help- 


14  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

less  bundle  of  furs  and  rugs,  with  a  white  face  and 
extremely  big,  alert  eyes.  "  It  does  not  seem  in  the 
least  like  Hugo,"  he  decided.  "I  wonder  if  I'd 
better  speak  of  the  accident.  I  wonder  what  he  would 
like  me  to  talk  about." 

"How  insolently  well  he  looks,"  thought  Hugo. 
"  How  strong  and  straight  he  stands." 

"Ages  since  I  saw  you,"  Lorenz  began  abruptly. 
"  Landstein  ball,  was  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Now  that  is  deuced  awkward,"  he  reflected  with 
growing  discomfort.  "  His  dancing  days  are  over." 

"No,  I  have  seen  no  one,"  Hugo  returned,  lan 
guidly.  "I  have  been  in  an  unbearable  humor  all 
winter.  Only  experienced  bear-tamers  have  dared 
venture  into  my  den." 

"  We  all  came,"  Lorenz  hazarded,  hesitatingly,  "  at 
first,  you  know,  to  inquire.  Of  course  the  countess 
told  you." 

"  Yes,  she  told  me.     You  were  very  kind." 

Lorenz  made  a  valiant  effort  to  put  the  heavily 
dragging  conversation  into  a  proper  pace. 

"  You  gave  my  Ajax  a  look,  did  n't  you  ?  " 

"Yes.  Good  back,  I  thought,  and  neat  little 
head." 

"  He 's  going  to  make  a  racer,  you  know,"  Lorenz 
began,  brightening  visibly  —  then  stopped  with  an 
unintelligible  stammer,  and  stared  helplessly  down 
upon  his  friend's  pale  face. 

"  Great  powers,"  he  thought,  "  and  there  is  no 
more  racing  for  him  !  " 

Hugo  stirred  uneasily,  then  broke  out  with  — 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Raven,  don't  go  on  like  that. 
Don't  be  afraid  of  me.  Don't  handle  me  with  gloves. 
It 's  no  crime,  so  far  as  I  know,  to  lose  the  use  of 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  15 

one's  legs.  You  need  n't  mince  matters  with  me,  you 
know.  Speak  out,  if  you  like.  It  makes  me  savage 
to  be  stared  at  in  compassionate  silence.  As  if  words 
could  hurt  after  —  this  !  " 

He  uttered  his  impatient  appeal  with  nervous 
rapidity,  and  accompanied  the  final  contemptuous 
word  with  a  sweeping  gesture  embracing  his  whole 
person.  His  hand,  falling  back  abruptly  upon  his 
breast,  felt  the  little  black  book  in  the  inner  pocket. 

"Now  I'm  glad  to  hear  that,"  returned  Lorenz, 
greatly  cheered.  "People  are  different.  One  can't 
tell.  Had  an  uncle.  Great  uncle,  you  know.  Hurt 
iii  the  same  way.  Ages  ago.  Before  my  time.  Aw 
fully  mashed,  you  know.  Horse  fell  on  him.  Never 
allowed  anybody  to  mention  it.  Cripple  all  his  life. 
Remember  we  children  were  deucedly  afraid  of  him. 
But  he  lived  any  amount.  Eighty,"  —  he  added, 
nodding  convincingly  at  Hugo.  "  Eighty-five  at  least, 
when  he  died." 

"  That  is  encouraging,"  Hugo  returned  dryly. 

"Oh,  yes.  Isn't  it?"  said  Lorenz,  exhilarated  by 
his  success.  "  I  don't  know  but  that  he  was  eighty- 
six." 

"Come  now,  Lorenz,"  Hugo  interrupted,  "can't 
you  let  the  old  gentleman  sleep  with  his  fathers? 
You  '11  trot  him  up  to  a  hundred  if  you  keep  on." 

His  voice  was  quiet,  but  his  smile  was  flashing  and 
queer.  Lorenz  was  not  sure  that  it  did  not  look 
rather  bad-tempered,  and  hastened  to  say, — 

"  Sorry  I  could  not  be  at  the  races.  Last  Septem 
ber,  you  know.  My  cousin's  wedding.  Had  to  go  to 
Berlin.  Three  days.  Inconvenient  season.  Famous 
work  you  did  on  Comet,"  he  added,  heartily.  "  Noth 
ing  like  it,  they  all  said." 


16  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  I  've  proved  that,  before  gods  and  men,"  Hugo 
rejoined  with  bitterness. 

"  Oh,  an  accident,"  deprecated  Lorenz.  "  Nobody 's 
to  blame.  Devil's  own  luck.  Nothing  to  do  with 
riding.  I  say  so.  Whole  Casino  says  so.  Only  yes 
terday  von  Paalzow  said,  'Thinks  he  can  ride,  does 
he  ?  Ought  to  have  seen  Kronfels  on  Comet.'  Poor 
Comet !  "  he  exclaimed,  with  warmth. 

The  frown  between  Hugo's  eyes  deepened,  and  after 
a  moment  he  asked  abruptly,  — 

"What's  the  news,  Lorenz?  Is  there  no  scandal? 
Has  the  Wynburg  world  grown  pious  since  I  disap 
peared  from  it  ?  " 

"No,  but  they  say  you  have,"  rejoined  the  other, 
laughing. 

"I?     Who  says  so?" 

"  The  countess  herself." 

"  She  ought  to  know,"  Hugo  remarked,  with  a 
curious  intonation. 

"  She 's  glad  you  are  so  serious.  Says  it 's  a  com 
fort  to  her.  Proper  for  you  to  be  religious  now. 
Appropriate."  Raven  went  on.  "Says  you  have  a 
little  holy  book  always  with  you.  Priest  and  breviary, 
you  know.  I  didn't  know.  Thought  it  might  be 
true." 

Hugo's  amazement  resolved  itself  into  laughter. 

"  Proper  and  appropriate,"  he  repeated.  "  Lorenz, 
I  'm  obliged  to  you.  I  have  not  laughed  like  this  in 
six  months.  I  did  not  know  that  I  should  ever  laugh 
again.  But  this  would  make  a  corpse  laugh." 

Lorenz  looked  at  him  doubtfully. 

"Odd  to  imagine  you  goody.  Made  us  fellows 
smile.  But  what 's  your  joke  ?  " 

"  Why  should  it  be  more  incumbent  upon  a  crippled 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  17 

man  to  be  religious  than  upon  a  well  man  ?  "  demanded 
Hugo. 

"  Don't  know,"  replied  Lorenz,  with  candid  indif 
ference.  "  Cripple's  got  more  time,"  he  suggested, 
with  admirable  simplicity. 

"  Precisely.     That 's  my  joke." 

"  I  don't  seem  to  understand  it,"  Lorenz  admitted, 
good  humoredly. 

"  It  might  not  interest  you.  It 's  only  a  queer  asso 
ciation  of  ideas.  There  used  to  be  an  old  woman  who 
came  to  us  now  and  then.  She  was  a  pauper.  At 
least  she  lived  in  a  Home  with  other  old  parties.  She 
wandered  in  here  one  day,  and  as  she  demanded  books 
instead  of  food  or  money,  the  servants  naturally  con 
cluded  she  was  a  suspicious  character.  They  were 
trying  to  eject  her  when  I,  luckily  for  her,  rode  into 
the  court-yard.  I  let  her  tell  her  tale.  She  made  an 
impression  upon  me  at  once.  She  was  the  only  logi 
cal  woman  I  ever  knew,  '  I  like  to  read,'  she  confided 
to  me.  '  It 's  the  only  joy  I  have  left,  and  I  can't  get 
anything  but  tracts  and  pious  things.  Why  don't 
they  send  tracts  to  rich  people,  who  have  pleasures 
enough  to  compensate  for  dull  reading?  Isn't  it 
enough  to  be  poor  without  also  having  to  read  tracts  ? ' 
she  demanded  indignantly.  '  I  may  be  a  sinner,  but 
nobody  can  deny  I  'm  getting  a  good  part  of  my  pun 
ishment  in  this  world,  and  the  rich  sinners  are  not, 
and  it 's  an  impertinence  for  them  to  dictate  to  me 
what  I  shall  read.'  My  mother  was  horrified,  and 
said  the  old  woman  was  impious  if  not  crazy.  But  I 
admired  her  sense.  I  gave  her  on  the  spot  all  the 
yellow-covered  novels  I  could  find,  and  I  subscribed 
to  a  circulating  library  for  her,  which  kept  her  sup 
plied  with  light  literature  until  she  died.  And  this 


18  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

much  I  must  say  for  the  plucky  old  soul,  —  I  never 
heard  a  complaint  from  her  lips  except  the  protest 
against  tracts.  '  Tracts  are  all  very  well,'  she  used  to 
say,  '  but  it 's  hatefulness  to  thrust  them  at  you  just 
because  you  are  unfortunate.  There  is  enough  in  my 
life  to  make  me  serious.  When  I  read,  I  want  to 
forget.  Let  the  rich  people  read  the  tracts  and  get 
ready  for  heaven.  The  Bible  says  they  will  have  a 
tight  squeeze  to  get  in.'  Then  she  would  chuckle  and 
smile  knowingly  at  me.  She  was  sure  of  my  sym 
pathy,  but  neither  she  nor  I  suspected  that  it  was  a 
kind  of  prescience." 

Von  Raven  stared.  "  Hugo  always  was  odd,"  he 
thought. 

"  Dull  story,  eh  ?  "  said  Hugo.  "  You  still  don't 
find  my  joke  ?  It  must  be  a  poor  one." 

"  Don't  know  much  about  old  women,"  Lorenz  ob 
served  with  a  self-satisfied  smile. 

"  Then  tell  me  something  about  young  women," 
Hugo  returned  quickly. 

"  There  's  not  much  new,  except  Countess  Merce 
des,  you  know." 

"  What  about  her  ?  "  Hugo  asked  brusquely. 

Lorenz  eyed  him  inquisitively  and  hesitated. 

"  Had  n't  you  heard  ?  They  say  it 's  a  sure  thing 
this  time.  The  French  Embassador.  She  's  uncer 
tain  as  the  wind.  Would  n't  bet  much  money  on  it." 

Hugo  gave  no  sign  of  surprise.  "  Old  Vallion  !  " 
he  was  saying  to  himself  in  a  whirl  of  pain,  incredu 
lity,  and  reminiscence,  "  Old  Vallion."  He  held  him 
self  rigid  upon  his  cushions.  "  Epictetus,  you  old 
poseur"  he  thought,  "  what  have  you  to  say  to  this  ? 
Epictetus,  you  never  waltzed  with  Mercedes !  "  and 
his  smile  grew  more  mocking  and  his  eyes  more  bril- 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  19 

liant,  until  Lorenz  decided  it  could  n't  have  amounted 
to  much  after  all,  the  affair  between  Kronfels  and  the 
Countess  Mercedes,  —  but  he  related  to  a  comrade  the 
same  day,  "  Hugo  does  get  a  look  on  him,  you  know  ! 
Why  he  looks  like  anything,  —  you  know !  Looks 
like  the  very  devil,  you  know !  " 

"  The  marquis  must  be  sixty-five  or  so,"  Hugo  said 
politely. 

Von  Raven  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Oh,  well ;  what  can  she  do  ?  She  can't  marry 
a  nobody.  And  she  must  have  money.  We  lieuten 
ants  are  mostly  too  poor  for  her.  She  's  getting  on 
too."  Hugo's  queer  smile  continued.  Lorenz's  single 
sentences  were  like  amputated  members  of  his  whole 
harangue.  "  Beautiful,  but  six  and  twenty.  And  aw 
fully  sharp,  you  know."  The  young  man's  remarks 
assumed  a  faint  tinge  of  reminiscence,  if  not  personal 
grievance.  "  A  man  does  n't  enjoy  being  made  un 
comfortable.  Don't  know  whether  a  girl  is  laughing 
at  him  or  not.  Feels  like  a  fool.  When  I  conclude 
to  settle  down,  shall  take  a  pretty  little  thing.  Not 
too  much  to  say  for  herself,  you  know ;  most  of  us  have 
made  up  our  minds  to  that."  It  was  a  long  speech  for 
Lorenz.  The  cavalry-boots  stepped  about  in  a  brisk 
and  convincing  manner,  and  the  florid  lieutenant 
pushed  up  his  stiff  cap  and  wiped  his  retreating,  nar 
row  forehead  as  if  the  proclamation  of  his  views  had 
cost  him  some  effort. 

"  I  never  found  her  sharp,"  said  Hugo  quietly. 

"  Oh,  you  !  "  rejoined  Lorenz  significantly.  "  I  sup 
pose  not.  Everybody  thought "  —  he  began,  but 
Hugo's  expression  was  not  inviting.  "  That  is,"  floun 
dered  Lorenz,  "  everybody  thinks  it 's  a  good  thing." 

"  Admirable,  I  should  say," 


20  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  She  wants  family  and  money.  Old  Vallion  has 
no  end  of  both.  Her  mother  pushes  it  like  mad,  you 
know." 

"  I  can  imagine  it,"  said  Hugo. 

"  Then  there  is  Elsa  —  jolly  little  thing  —  kept 
back  in  the  school-room.  Kicking  her  bars.  And 
Olga,  pretty  as  girls  go.  No  show  beside  Mercedes. 
Deuced  row  all  round." 

"  Of  course,"  was  the  quiet  response. 

"  Upon  my  word,"  and  Lorenz  gave  a  loud  laugh, 
"  I  'm  glad  I  have  no  sisters.  No  end  of  work  to 
establish  them.  Poor  things  !  " 

"  Oh,  they  seem  to  enjoy  the  man-hunt."  Hugo  re 
turned  with  an  ugly  sneer.  "  I  notice  they  don't  have 
to  learn  much  from  their  mammas.  They  are  armed 
and  equipped  from  the  start,  nowadays.  Particularly 
the  naive  ones.  But  give  me  some  mor3  delicacies 
of  the  season,  Lorenz.  Mamma  has  scrupulously 
refrained  from  bringing  any  world  noises  in  to  me 
lately.  I  understand  now.  She  does  not  wish  to 
startle  my  pious  ears." 

"  You  have  a  way  of  looking  precisely  like  your 
father,  you  know.  Odd  !  Never  noticed  it  before. 
Reminded  me  of  him  a  dozen  times  this  morning.  If 
you  had  glasses  and  shaggy  eyebrows,  now  !  " 

"  There  would  have  to  be  radical  changes  inside  of 
my  cranium,  before  I  could  hope  to  look  like  him. 
But  go  on,  Lorenz." 

The  sunshine  fell  upon  Lorenz's  high-colored,  good- 
humored,  vapid  face.  Seated  on  a  garden-bench,  one 
tall  boot  crossed  over  the  other,  he  spoke  with  the 
drawl  affected  by  his  set,  and  in  the  dislocated  man 
ner  peculiar  to  himself.  Without  malice,  but  in  the 
easy  slighting  tone  with  which  people  like  to  discuss 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  21 

the  absent,  breaking  out,  now  and  then,  into  an  empty 
laugh,  he  related  the  good  thing  Hubert  had  said  to 
the  pushing  Jew  banker  ;  the  duel  they  had  hushed 
up  about  R.'s  pretty  wife  ;  how  the  duchess  had  de 
liberately  turned  her  back  upon  the  Baroness  Marie, 
upon  which  Count  Dings  —  what  could  one  expect 
of  a  fellow  who  had  bought  his  title  !  —  had  delib 
erately  left  her  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  hall, 
like  the  cad  that  he  was,  —  when  up  rushed  that  shy 
little  secretary  of  the  Austrian  Legation  who  never 
dares  say  his  soul  is  his  own  and  offered  her  his 
arm,  his  face  as  red  as  a  turkey-cock  ;  how  Hans' 
black  mare  was  lame  and  he  had  bought  a  full-blood ; 
how  little  Laura  was  making  a  famous  fool  of  Rich 
ard,  whose  papa  had  found  it  out,  and  was  furi 
ous  when  he  was  n't  maudlin  ;  how  the  court-theatre 
was  growing  worse  and  worse  with  ugly  soubrettes, 
worn-out  tenors,  and  Juliets  painfully  suggestive  of  the 
allotted  threescore  years  and  ten ;  how  Kurt's  gam 
bling  debts  were  mountains  high,  and  there  was  really 
no  help  for  him  unless  he  married  the  little  Ameri 
can  girl  and  done  with  it ;  her  mother  was  hanging 
diamonds  on  the  child,  and  throwing  her  at  Kurt's 
head  ;  the  little  thing  herself  was  a  good  little  thing, 
but  it  was  rather  rough  on  Kurt,  since  all  the  world 
knew  that  he  was  madly  in  love  with  his  cousin  Me- 
lanie  and  she,  not  a  penny  to  her  name,  and  he  only 
his  pay  —  and  his  debts,  etc.,  etc. 

So  the  endless  stream  ran  on. 

At  first,  Hugo  listened  with  a  semblance  of  inter 
est.  But  the  chronicle  began  to  grow  remote  as  a  six 
teenth-century  tale,  and  his  thoughts  wandered. 

"  Have  I  not  heard  it  all  before  ?  This  was  my 
world,"  he  reflected  with  dull  surprise.  "  I  cared  for 


22  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

it.  It  seemed  to  care  for  me.  I  was  important  in  it. 
If  the  spirit  hovers  over  the  scenes  it  frequented  in 
the  body,  it  must  be  greatly  astonished  to  discover, 
in  spite  of  some  honest  tears,  how  unimportant  it  was 
in  the  world,  and  I  am  experiencing  this,  while  still 
on  earth." 

Again  he  smiled  like  his  father,  and  Lorenz  was 
encouraged  to  believe  himself  entertaining. 

"  I  wonder,"  thought  Hugo,  his  eyes  fixed  on  Lo- 
renz's  complacent  face,  "  what  Mercedes  thought  she 
loved  in  me.  Except  for  my  powers  of  locomotion  I 
am  the  same  man.  I  can't  ask  her  to  take  a  stroll  in 
the  garden,  but  I  could  have  loved  her  still.  What  if 
she  had  come  to  me,  and  knelt  down  by  this  chair,  and 
looked  at  me  with  her  beautiful  eyes,  and  said  low,  — 
she  can  speak  low  and  soft  though  Lorenz  never  heard 
her  —  suppose  she  had  come  and  said  :  Hugo,  I  love 
you,  more  than  any  other  soul  on  earth  —  and  more, 
all  the  more,  now  that  you  have  this  sorrow  —  and  I 
will  come  to  you  and  love  you  and  help  you  bear  it. 
What  would  I  have  said  ?  What  would  I  have  done  ? 
God  knows  !  I  might  have  been  a  coward  and  taken 
her  at  her  word.  I  might  have  been  a  man  and 
sent  her  away.  But  to  hear  such  words  from  such  a 
woman's  lips  would  be  so  glorious,  a  man's  heart 
would  leap  with  joy,  in  spite  of  his  crippled  legs. 
It  seems  to  me  I  could  bear  it  all  and  be  glad,  if 
Mercedes  had  come,  with  pity  and  faithfulness  and 
love  in  her  eyes.  But  the  woman  does  not  live  who  is 
loving  enough  for  that !  Yet  why  I  am  even  now 
a  greater  horror  than  that  old  roue,  Vallion,  I  can't 
make  out.  Well  I  am.  I  am  a  horror  for  all  time." 
He  looked  intently  at  Lorenz's  muscular  well-pro 
portioned  form  and  laughed,  to  the  latter's  surprise,  as 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  23 

he  was  not  aware  that  he  was  saying'  anything  amus 
ing  at  the  moment. 

"  Ought  to  be  going,"  he  said  at  length.  "  Don't 
whistle.  I  '11  go  round  and  mount.  Good  by,  Hugo." 

"  Good-by,  Lorenz.     Thanks  for  your  visit." 

They  shook  hands.  Lorenz  could  think  of  nothing 
more  to  say.  He  strode  off  a  few  steps,  turned,  hesi 
tated,  and  came  back.  He  had  a  vague  sense  that 
there  was  something  else  incumbent  upon  him,  and  he 
was  what  is  called  good-hearted,  —  for  instance,  always 
kind  to  his  dogs. 

He  looked  down  once  more  upon  Hugo's  pallid 
face,  and  the  rugs  and  shawls  and  furs,  and  said 
kindly  enough,  — 

"  If  I  can  do  anything  in  the  world  for  you,  send 
for  me,  will  you  ?  And  I  '11  come  in  now  and  then,  if 
you  like,  and  cheer  you  up." 

"  Thanks,"  returned  Hugo,  extending  his  thin  hand. 
"  If  you  happen  to  meet  Countess  Mercedes,  give  her 
my  congratulations." 

"  Bather  premature,"  laughed  Lorenz,  "  and  you 
will  get  her  announcement." 

"  Of  course,"  Hugo  assented,  "  but  perhaps  you 
could  mention  to  her  sometime  that  we  discussed  it, 
and  that  I  thought  well  of  it.  She  might  be  pleased 
to  receive  such  a  message  from  an  old  friend,  before 
the  formal  congratulations  begin  to  pour  in.  Tell  her 
I  said  I  thought  it  was  an  admirable  arrangement 
for  all  parties.  And  wish  her  happiness  for  me,  — 
much  happiness." 

"All  right.  Good-by  again,  Hugo,"  and  off  he 
went  to  find  Ajax,  satisfied  that  he  had  remedied  his 
incompleteness.  In  a  few  moments  he  rode  down  the 
drive,  calling  out  his  cheerful  banalities  as  he  passed. 


24  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

A  red-cheeked  maid,  coming  out  of  the  house  with 
a  snarling  little  yellow  dog,  met  the  rider  face  to  face, 
and  stopped  and  stared  in  open-mouthed  admiration. 
The  dog's  bell  tinkled  incessantly,  and  he  snapped  at 
everything  and  nothing,  with  a  never-dying  grudge 
against  all  nature. 

Lipps  was  again  hovering  anxiously  near  the  in 
valid. 

"  Take  your  mummy  into  the  house,"  said  Count 
Hugo.  "  Put  it  on  its  sofa.  I  have  had  enough  — 
gayety,  for  one  day." 


CHAPTER  II. 

ADELHEID,  Countess  of  Kronfels,  was  in  the  habit 
of  rising  between  ten  and  eleven  A.  M.  This  event 
was  accompanied  by  the  vehement  pealing  of  electric 
bells,  and  by  the  breathless  hurrying  up  and  down, 
stairs  and  through  long  corridors  of  her  own  maid, 
the  second  maid,  the  first  housemaid,  and  the  corpu 
lent  butler.  Although  from  one  year's  end  to  an 
other,  there  was  slight  variation  in  the  ceremonies  of 
the  Countess  of  Kronfels'  morning  toilette,  although 
her  slaves  and  vassals  had  never  failed  to  produce  the 
requisite  bath-tubs,  the  hot  and  cold  water,  the  toast 
and  tea,  the  morning  post,  and  to  regulate  heat  and 
ventilation,  and  consult  thermometers,  all  in  the  de 
sired  sequence,  she  invariably  presupposed  something 
was  about  to  be  wrong  in  the  matutinal  rites,  and 
began  each  day  with  a  jealous  suspicion  that  her  fel 
low-creatures  might  underrate  her  importance. 

Her  methods,  however  open  to  criticism,  had  the 
advantage  of  securing  praiseworthy  speed  and  punctu 
ality  in  her  service,  for  none  knew  when  her  habitu 
ally  cold  and  imperious  manner  would  resolve  itself 
into  violence.  Until  her  attendants  were  aware  that 
she  had  advanced  from  her  exclusively  personal  obser 
vances  to  the  toilet  of  her  little  yellow  dog  Mousey, 
their  vigilance  was  unremitting,  and  they  dared 
breathe  freely  only  when  she  was  enveloped  in  a  vo 
luminous  wrapper,  surrounded  by  Mousey's  ivory 
brushes  and  tortoise-shell  combs;  Mousey's  towels, 


26  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

embroidered  witli  his  own  monogram ;  Mousey's 
sponges,  flannels,  and  rugs ;  Mousey's  bath  of  warm, 
scented  water,  and  the  object  of  her  adoration  snarl 
ing  on  his  blanket  stretched  across  her  knees. 

For  if  the  countess  tyrannized  over  her  quaking 
household,  Mousey  enacted  the  role  of  god  of  ven 
geance,  and  for  every  affront  which  she  offered  harm 
less  human  beings  in  her  power,  the  insolent,  bad- 
tempered  little  cur  exacted  retribution.  Let  philoso 
phers  determine  the  nature  of  the  attachment  between 
the  old  lady  and  her  mongrel  pet,  whose  every  snap 
and  snarl  were  her  laws.  Indeed  a  tradition  existed 
to  the  effect  that  the  first  and  only  time  that  the  coun 
tess  attempted  to  chastise  Mousey  for  some  breach  of 
canine  etiquette,  he  turned  fiercely  and  bit  her.  Hap 
pily  his  teeth  were  poor.  But  the  countess  grew  pale 
with  fright  and  remorse,  and  tearfully  entreated  the 
sulky  little  brute,  who  was  far  too  clever  not  to  re 
cognize  his  crime  and  was  guiltily  backing  under  a 
chair,  expectant,  no  doubt,  of  capital  punishment,  to 
"  come  to  his  mamma,"  which,  after  a  long  period  of 
coaxing,  and  extravagant  endearment,  he  finally  con 
sented  to  do.  The  reconciliation  was  complete,  but 
who  ruled  the  villa  after  that  was  no  secret.  The 
second  maid,  who  ventured  to  say,  "  Why,  I  thought 
they  always  killed  'em  when  they  was  nasty  enough  to 
bite  their  masters,"  was  discharged  on  the  spot  for 
impertinence. 

Mousey  was  tiny,  flaxen-blonde,  shaggy  and  silky, 
with  the  cleverness  of  a  fiend  peering  out  of  his 
wicked  black  eyes.  He  had  a  pampered  body,  an 
undeniable  malformation  of  the  hind  legs,  and  no 
tail.  He  was  ugly,  vicious,  unfaithful,  hypocritical, 
and  of  nameless  race.  Men  were  apt  to  raise  their 


THE   OPEN   DOOR.  27 

eyebrows  with  an  amused  expression,  when  the  coun 
tess  descanted  volubly  upon  his  "points,"  but  if  a 
guest  was  so  reckless  as  to  imply  a  doubt  of  Mousey's 
pedigree,  never  again  did  he  have  the  honor  of  dining 
at  the  villa.  Better  discover  a  blot  on  the  Kronfels' 
scutcheon,  than  on  Mousey's.  He  slept  in  the  coun 
tess's  bed.  He  feasted  at  her  table.  She  did  not 
love  animals.  To  her  there  was  but  one  dog,  and  she 
was  his  prophet. 

The  moment  of  the  countess's  descent  to  her  son's 
rooms  was  nearly  as  absorbing  to  her  retainers,  as 
were  her  first  bells  and  commands.  Large,  corpulent, 
pale,  with  cold  light  eyes,  a  thin  and  severe  mouth,  a 
small  straight  nose  with  flat  nostrils,  and  the  conspic 
uous  whiteness  which,  according  to  the  erudite  inter 
preters  of  this  feature,  denotes  "  cruelty,"  yet  alto 
gether  what  is  called  a  handsome  presence,  she  came 
slowly  down  the  marble  stairway,  panting  slightly 
with  a  suggestion  of  asthma,  and  holding  her  treasure 
under  her  left  arm,  above  which  Mousey's  sagacious, 
diabolical  eyes  gleamed  through  his  silky,  overhang 
ing  yellow  locks.  The  procession  was  headed  by  the 
portly  butler  to  fling  open  the  doors,  while  behind  the 
majestic,  slowly  advancing  figure,  the  countess's  own 
maid  followed  with  a  breakfast  shawl,  and  a  second 
maid  with  Mousey's  ball,  doll,  and  white  lamb's  wool 
rug  brought  up  the  rear. 

Such  was  the  train  which,  heralded  by  occasional 
irrelevant  yelps,  approached  the  wing  occupied  by 
Count  Hugo,  and  happily  remote  from  the  countess's 
precincts.  He  was  lying  on  his  sofa,  weary  from  his 
unwonted  exertion,  and  wearier  from  his  painful 
thoughts,  which  seemed  to  revolve  continually  in  a 
fatal  circle.  The  unutterable  melancholy  of  his  eyes 


28  THE    OPEN   DOOR. 

filled  Lipps's  heart  with  discomfort,  and  the  poor  fel 
low  whose  strength  lay  not  in  book-lore,  was  blindly 
groping  in  the  recesses  of  his  memory  for  the  name  of 
the  volume  over  which  he  had  seen  the  count  smile 
some  days  previous,  when  the  butler's  knock  an 
nounced  the  approach  of  the  countess  and  her  suite. 

Bidding  her  son  good-morning,  she  extended  her 
large,  well-shaped  hand,  which  he  mechanically  raised 
to  his  lips,  rejoining :  — 

"  Good-morning,  mamma.     How  are  you  to-day  ?  " 

The  butler  and  second  maid  had  withdrawn.  The 
countess's  own  maid  waited,  in  case  Mousey  should 
express  a  wish.  Lipps,  with  a  non-committal  mien, 
stood  with  his  shortness  well  drawn  up  behind  his 
master's  sofa,  prepared  for  offensive  or  defensive  pos 
sibilities  as  circumstances  should  demand. 

"  Oh,  I  am  sadly  fatigued,"  sighed  the  countess, 
"  and  my  neuralgia  scarcely  allowed  me  to  sleep  an 
hour.  My  breathing  is  troublesome  again,  too.  Is  n't 
it,  Mousey,  mon  bijou  ?  Come  to  your  own  mamma. 
Did  it  want  to  play  a  little,  the  dear  little  sportive 
lambkin?  Well,  it  should."  What  the  sportive 
lambkin  chiefly  wanted  was  to  snarl  and  snort  and 
snap  at  the  head  of  the  white  bear  skin  flung  over 
Hugo's  low,  broad  sofa,  and  it  gave  full  vent  to  its 
inclinations. 

"  Do  you  still  take  a  few  glasses  of  curagoa  and 
some  sweet  biscuit  before  going  to  bed  ?  "  the  count 
inquired  coolly. 

"  But  I  feel  so  faint,  Hugo,  I  require  it." 

"  It  would  make  the  boniest  lieutenant  begin  to  get 
puffy." 

"  Bony  !  Puffy  !  What  expressions,  my  son  !  You 
know  very  well  I  cannot  fast.  I  am  too  sensitive." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  29 

"  I  know  simply  this :  you  eat  too  many  sweets  and 
take  too  little  exercise.  Any  doctor  would  tell  you 
that.  Walk  regularly  every  day  and  your  breathing 
will  be  all  right." 

"  Any  doctor  I  "  exclaimed  the  old  lady,  mounting 
a  hobby.  "  No  doctor  here  understands  my  consti 
tution.  In  fact  I  never  met  but  one  physician  who 
suited  me.  That  dear  Pressigny  in  Paris !  What  a 
man !  What  a  manner  !  What  a  voice  !  And  what 
broad  shoulders  !  What  insight  and  intuition  !  4  My 
dear,  dear  madame,'  he  used  to  say,  '  you,  with  your 
sensibilities,  can  never  be  treated  according  to  ordi 
nary  rules  I  '  Is  your  doctor  capable  of  that,  Hugo?  " 

"  Emphatically  not." 

"  I  prefer  then  to  be  my  own  doctor,  so  far  as  pos 
sible  following  his  footsteps.  Poor  dear  man !  So 
tender,  so  discriminating !  We  wept  when  he  died, 
did  we  not,  Mousey,  my  angel  ?  " 

The  angel  was  up  on  the  window-seat,  barking  an 
grily  at  a  dog  he  perceived  at  a  safe  distance.  For 
reasons  which  did  credit  to  his  intelligence  if  not  to 
his  valor,  he  was  never  known,  unless  protected,  as  in 
this  instance,  by  the  window  pane,  to  insult  an  animal 
of  his  own  size,  but  greatly  enjoyed  snarling  at  the 
heels  of  some  great  good-natured  mastiff  who  would 
regard  his  petulant  ebullitions  with  dignified  surprise. 

"  Do  you  feed  Mousey  with  curacoa  and  sweet  bis 
cuit,  too  ?  " 

"  A  wee  crumb  of  biscuit  now  and  then,  for  he  loved 
it.  Did  n't  you  love  it,  pet  ?  " 

"Because  he  is  asthmatic  too.  Hear  how  stuffed 
and  strangled  his  bark  sounds." 

"  Hugo !  How  cruel  you  are !  Do  you  want  to 
frighten  me  ?  " 


30  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

44  Not  in  the  least.  I  merely  say  the  dog  is  over 
fed." 

44  His  poor  little  stomach  was  rather  distended  last 
night.  I  rubbed  it  with  sweet  oil  and  gave  him  three 
globules  of  nux-vomiea.  But  I  know  it  is  not  his 
food.  It  is  a  little  fever.  He  is  so  sensitive.  He  is 
going  out  with  his  mamma  to  take  a  little  airing  after 
lunch,  and  then  he  will  feel  better.  Won't  he  ?  Yes, 
he  will,  poor  little  suffering,  sweet  thing !  Babette," 
she  called,  with  a  sudden  change  of  tone,  "  when  you 
see  that  Mousey  wishes  to  play  ball,  why  are  you  not 
more  attentive  ?  Eoll  it  for  him  nicely,  Babette." 

"  Give  him  nothing  but  water  and  a  bone  for  two 
or  three  days  and  his  sensitiveness  will  be  all  right," 
the  count  said  carelessly. 

44  Since  I  find  you  in  this  unsympathetic  mood,  my 
dear  Hugo,"  she  began  rapidly  in  French,  "  I  can  of 
course  leave  you.  I  came  in  with  the  kindest  inten 
tions.  For  I  think  it  is  in  every  respect  proper  that 
a  mother  should  sit  a  while  every  day  with  her  invalid 
son.  But  of  course  if  you  desire,  I  can  go  in  now 
to  my  lonely  lunch.  Come,  Mousey,  my  comfort, 
my  only  friend !  Lipps,"  she  said  sternly,  "  when 
Mousey 's  ball  rolls  under  the  book-case  near  you, 
can't  you  get  it  for  him  ?  " 

Lipps  stood  as  if  riveted  to  the  floor,  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  his  master's  face. 

Hugo  nodded,  and  the  man  took  a  ruler  from  the 
writing  table  and  pushed  the  ball  towards  Mousey, 
who  received  it  with  engaging  growls  and  gnash- 
ings. 

44 1  had  no  intention  of  being  unsympathetic,"  Hugo 
said,  without  looking  at  his  mother. 

44 1  know  —  in  your  state  "  —  she  began. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  31 

"  Kindly  leave  my  state  out  of  the  question,"  he 
interrupted  with  a  quick  flush. 

"  I  know,"  she  persisted,  "  that  one  must  make 
allowance  for  your  condition.  But  Hugo,  if  you 
would  only  cultivate  resignation !  " 

He  closed  his  eyes  and  did  not  reply.  Lipps 
watched  him  uneasily. 

"  Because,"  she  continued,  always  in  French,  "  after 
all,  what  God  does  is  well  done." 

"  I  presume  so,"  he  returned  with  a  sneer. 

"  Hugo,"  she  began,  rising  with  dignity,  "  one 
thing  which  I  will  not  permit  in  my  presence  is  irrev 
erence.  You  know  my  principles." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  think  I  know  them.  Suppose  we 
don't  discuss  them  just  now.  What  did  you  wish  to 
say  to  me  ?  And  won't  you  send  off  your  woman,  and 
Mousey  ?  His  bell  is  rather  distracting  when  one  is 
dead  tired.  Lipps  can  go  too.  I  can  listen  better, 
and  we  are  a  more  harmonious  family  party  without 
so  many  spectators." 

"  Of  course,  if  you  insist,  although  it  is  a  mystery 
to  me  how  you  can  be  so  hard  hearted  to  Mousey. 
He  wears  his  little  bell  because  he  was  out  for  a 
frolic  with  Roschen,  and  is  going  out  with  his  Mum- 
sey  directly  after  lunch.  Blessed  little  sweetheart, 
come  to  your  Mumsey !  "  making  a  dive  after  him 
with  some  difficulty,  as  her  velvet  gown  was  tight 
in  the  waist  and  sleeves. 

The  gifted  Mousey 's  human  contemporaries  unani 
mously  attributed  to  him  comprehension  of  every 
word  in  all  languages  spoken  in  his  presence,  as  well 
as  a  proficiency  in  mind-reading  which  would  put  most 
popular  psychic  experts  to  shame.  With  an  undeni 
able  snap  at  the  countess's  persuasive  hand,  he  dodged 


32  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

it  easily,  and  retreated  beneath  Hugo's  sofa,  snarling 
sotto  voce,  and  promenading  himself  tantalizingly  be 
yond  her  reach.  Kneeling,  breathing  loud,  she  coaxed 
and  pleaded  in  vain. 

"  Come  here,  you  fiend !  "  said  Hugo  in  a  low  voice. 

Mousey  with  a  bound  came  up  over  the  back  of  the 
sofa  and  stood  upon  Hugo's  breast  with  a  sardonic 
grin  on  his  countenance  and  a  plain  intimation  that 
if  he  had  had  a  tail  he  would  have  wagged  it. 

"  How  he  jumped !  "  exclaimed  the  countess,  panting 
as  she  reseated  herself ;  "  and  the  roguish  little  love 
always  makes  me  lift  him." 

"  You  demon  !  "  said  Hugo  in  the  same  low  tone, 
parting  the  silky  hair  falling  over  the  dog's  eyes  and 
looking  at  him  attentively. 

"  Singular,  that  he  lets  you  touch  his  head,"  she 
said  jealously ;  "  why  he  scarcely  bears  my  hand  on 
it.  But  don't  call  him  names.  It  hurts  his  feelings. 

O 

Do  you  know  he  would  have  come  when  I  called  him, 
only  he  is  a  little  vexed  with  me,  are  n't  you,  sweet 
pet  ?  because  I  would  n't  give  him  another  lump  of 
sugar ;  but  it  was  for  your  good,  you  darling  dog- 
gums." 

"Here,  Lipps,  take  him  out,"  and  Hugo  put  the 
shrinking  animal  into  the  man's  arms. 

Again  a  striking  metamorphosis  took  place  in 
Mousey's  eloquent  personality.  Small  as  he  was,  he 
seemed  to  diminish  bodily  and  become  the  most  harm 
less  of  inanimate  flaxen  balls  as  soon  as  Lipps  touched 
him.  His  expression  was  meek  if  not  pious,  and  he 
subtly  conveyed  the  impression  that  he  was  drooping 
the  tail  he  had  not. 

"  Be  attentive  to  Mousey,  Babette,  and  entertain 
ing.  Ask  him  if  he  would  like  a  run  in  the  garden. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  33 

Adieu,  my  precious,"  throwing  kisses  to  him  as  Lipps 
with  unwonted  rapidity  left  the  room. 

"  I  am  convinced  that  Lipps  is  a  bad  man,"  the 
countess  began  when  they  were  alone.  "  I  frequently 
urged  your  father  to  discharge  him." 

"  But  my  father  did  n't,"  observed  Hugo  dryly. 

"  No,  —  your  father  was  peculiar  in  some  things," 
she  said  with  a  sigh.  "  But  I  wish  you  would  send 
the  man  off.  Mousey 's  behavior  is  so  singular.  He 
positively  shrinks  before  him.  And  when  he  hears 
Lipps's  step,  he  often  runs  and  hides.  His  more  deli 
cate  perceptions  teach  him  what  is  hidden  to  our 
duller  senses." 

Hugo  privately  suspected  that  Mousey's  delicate 
perceptions  had  more  than  once  come  in  contact  with 
Lipps's  indelicate  boot.  For  when  the  dog's  nervous 
patter  and  the  incessant  tinkling  of  his  bell  were 
heard  too  near  the  invalid's  quarters,  Lipps  would 
steal  out  and  after  a  somewhat  excited  though  hushed 
colloquy,  in  which  Mousey  tenaciously  defended  his 
position,  certain  unequivocal  sounds  were  heard,  which 
resulted  in  the  sudden  diminuendo  of  the  tinkling, 
while  Mousey,  as  fast  as  his  too  long  legs  could  carry 
his  too  fat  body,  pattered  down  the  corridor  and  up 
the  stairway,  to  the  flesh-pots  of  Egypt  which  always 
awaited  him  in  his  own  apartments.  It  was  under 
these  circumstances  that  the  countess  hearing  him  im 
periously  demand  admittance,  was  apt  to  cry  in  rap 
ture  :  — 

"  He  wants  his  own  Mumsey,  yes  he  did,  the  dear 
faithful  heart !  He  loved  his  Mumsey,  and  his  Mum 
sey  loved  her  Mousey !  Yes,  so  she  did !  "  where 
upon  she  would  rain  showers  of  kisses  upon  him,  even 
upon  his  rather  warm  nose. 


34  THE    OPEN  DOOR, 

"  I  think  I  will  keep  Lipps  for  the  present,"  Hugo 
replied  with  a  slight  smile  ;  "  Mousey  is  welcome  to 
his  estimate  of  the  man's  character,  but  you  know  he 
happens  to  be  in  my  personal  service,  and  as  Mousey 
did  not  engage  him,  it  strikes  me  that  it  is  little  less 
than  a  liberty  for  Mousey  to  interfere." 

"  How  absurd  you  are,  Hugo  !  I  do  not  quite  see 
how  you  can  care  to  joke  so  much.  One  would  think 
you  would  feel  sad  and  dignified." 

He  tugged  at  one  of  his  cushions  and  finally  pushed 
it  violently  until  it  fell. 

"  I  was  never  good  in  private  theatricals,  you  re 
member.  I  always  refused  to  play  the  r61e  assigned 
to  me.  And  you  see  that  I  am  inordinately  merry 
and  full  of  jest." 

She  sighed.  It  was  hard  to  reconcile  so  much 
levity  with  a  recumbent  position. 

"  If  I  had  found  you  in  a  different  mood,  I  should 
have  talked  with  you  about  Gabrielle." 

"  What,  again  ? "  he  returned  in  unfeigned  sur 
prise. 

"  I  have  been  reconsidering  "  — 

"  Then  I  am  sorry,"  he  said  quickly.  "  I  thought 
we  had  settled  all  that." 

"  But,  Hugo  "  - 

"  Mamma,"  he  said,  raising  himself  upon  one  elbow, 
and  speaking  impetuously,  "  why  discuss  the  mat 
ter  ?  Have  we  not  exhausted  every  detail  ?  You 
know  my  opinion.  I  know  yours.  You  shared  mine 
at  one  time.  You  decided  not  to  have  her  come. 
That  you  begin  again  is  conclusive  evidence  that 
somebody  has  influenced  you.  Doubtless,  the  Frau 
Major,"  and  he  looked  at  her  sharply. 

"  She  was  considerate  enough  to  think  that  a  bright, 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  35 

sunny  young  girl  would  cheer  me  when  I  was  low- 
spirited,"  the  countess  admitted  uneasily. 

"  And  who  will  cheer  your  bright,  sunny  young  girl 
when  she  is  low-spirited  ?  "  he  demanded  hotly.  "  And 
have  you  intimated  to  the  Frau  Major  what  dot  you 
intend  to  settle  upon  your  sunny  young  girl,  in  case 
she  suits  your  whims  and  Mousey 's  ?  " 

"  Hugo,  you  forget  yourself  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  said,  falling  back  wearily. 
"  Do  me  the  justice  to  remember  that  I  tried  to  avoid 
the  conversation." 

"  It  seems  to  me  very  proper  to  discuss  a  step  of  so 
much  importance  with  one's  only  son." 

"  But  if  one's  only  son  has  already  declared  himself 
unalterably  opposed  to  the  step  ?  " 

"  So  unreasonable,"  she  murmured,  "  so  obstinate  !  " 

"  It  is  possible.  I  admit  the  question  does  not  con 
cern  me  materially.  Your  sunny  young  person  will 
not  disturb  me.  But  still  I  protest.  Why  must  you 
do  it,  mamma  ?  Why  add  a  new  name  to  the  sad  old 
list.  You  never  were  satisfied  with  one  of  them.  You 
suspected  them  of  a  thousand  meannesses.  No,  I 
don't  intend  to  be  rude.  But  remember,  there  was 
always,  sooner  or  later,  an  open  scene  after  a  long 
smouldering  quarrel ;  then  complaints,  tears,  recrim 
inations,  and  the  rapid  exit  of  the  companion.  We 
have  tried  relatives,  strangers,  German,  French,  and 
English  girls.  There  was  Cousin  Marie,  a  widow  — 
a  pleasing,  gentle  little  woman  —  musical,  — cheerful, 
—  practical  "  — 

"  Don't  talk  to  me  of  her,  Hugo  !  Deceitful  little 
cat !  " 

"  Precisely.  Let  us  for  the  sake  of  argument  admit 
that  they  were  all  deceitful  cats.  In  that  case  I  don't 


36  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

see  what  is  going  to  prevent  this  Gabrielle  from  also 
being  a  cat,  and  deceitful.  You  will  adore  her  and 
caress  her  and  call  her  4  Moonbeam  '  if  she  is  fair,  and 
'  Twilight '  if  she  is  dark,  and  there  will  be  peace  for 
fourteen  days* — for  three  weeks  provided  she  is  a 
miracle  of  patience  ;  then  her  fall  from  favor  will  be 
more  rapid  than  her  ascent." 

"  One  would  think,  Hugo,  that  I  was  a  " 

"  I  am  not  analyzing  the  reasons  of  things,  but 
merely  sketching  their  outward  sequence.  You  have 
made  fifteen  trials  of  companions,  have  you  not  ?  Or 
is  it  sixteen  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  singularly  unfortunate,  I  admit.  I 
am  too  trusting.  Then  Gabrielle  will  not  be  like  a 
companion.  A  girl  of  good  family  —  a  baroness  —  a 
distant  relative  of  ours,  —  she  will  be  like  a  daughter 
of  the  house." 

"  It  sounds  well,"  Hugo  returns  skeptically.  "  But 
she  is  poor,  and  young,  and  will  be  in  your  power. 
Our  servants  have  at  least  their  Sunday  out,  and  can 
ridicule  us  and  abuse  us  royally  down  in  the  base 
ment.  But  what  vent  to  her  feelings  has  the  com 
panion  of  a  fashionable  woman  ?  Particularly  if  she 
is  a  poor  relative.  Her  dignity  forbids  her  to  com 
plain,  until  she  grows  desperate  and  throws  up  the 
situation.  She  could  not,  for  instance,  even  confide  to 
me  that  she  found  be*sique  a  bore  and  hated  Mousey." 

"  You  are  complimentary  —  as  usual,  Hugo,"  she 
retorted  displeased,  "  and  yet  you  know  well  that  my 
ideal  is  the  companionship  of  a  true  friend,"  she 
continued  in  a  curiously  sentimental  manner.  "  All 
my  life  I  have  longed  for  sympathy,  and  in  vain. 
Why  should  my  son  wish  to  deny  me  the  possibility 
of  finding  it  ?  " 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  37 

When  the  countess  was  sentimental  she  always  had 
him  at  a  disadvantage.  For  thin,  empty,  and  tran 
sitory,  as  her  feeling  was,  he  believed  it  to  be  not 
wholly  insincere.  He  dreaded  the  little  conscious 
smile  so  foreign  to  her  hard  features,  and  the  school- 
girlish  talk  of  the  ideal  woman-friend.  Whether  her 
own  fault  or  not,  it  represented  her  sense  of  dissatis 
faction  with  her  life,  her  longing  for  something  she 
had  never  had  ;  it  meant  a  note  of  unhappiness,  which 
seemed  real  and  human  to  him,  and  when  he  heard  it, 
he  was  sorry  for  her. 

"  I  wish  I  need  not  offend  you,"  he  said  gently. 
"  What  I  mean  is  that  your  personality  is  so  —  so  — 
so  dominant,  so  engrossing,  I  do  not  think  you  adapted 
to  the  intimacy  which  you  always  seem  to  desire  with 
another  woman.  Friendship  necessitates  some  kind 
of  equality.  You  are  used  to  the  constant  society  of 
servants,  whose  smiles  and  lip-service  you  buy ;  and 
you  are  accustomed  to  superficial  intercourse  with 
women  of  the  world,  whose  smiles  and  lip-service  you 
also  buy  in  a  certain  sense,  at  least  you  exchange 
yours  for  theirs  ;  but  in  both  cases  thoughts  are  free 
and  well-disguised,  and  I  do  not  believe  any  other 
relationship  would  satisfy  you.  Above  all,  this  child 
from  the  country.  For  the  last  time,  I  say  let  the 
girl  stay  where  she  is." 

"  But  I  intend  to  make  her  happy.  I  have  always 
wanted  a  daughter.  A  daughter  would  have  under 
stood  me."  On  the  cold  face  was  still  the  thin  mask 
of  sentimentality. 

"  I  have  heard  you  frequently  say  so.  But  the  fact 
remains,  this  girl  is  not  your  daughter.  She  will  have 
no  freedom,  she  will  have  no  rights.  If  she  is  ani 
mated,  you  will  call  her  pert.  If  she  is  quiet  and  de- 


38  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

liberate,  you  will  find  her  not  prevoyante.  Whether 
pretty  or  ugly,  she  will  be  in  your  opinion  coquette. 
Whether  she  will  or  not,  she  must  drive  with  you, 
pay  visits,  go  shopping,  as  if  under  military  orders." 

"  And  is  that  a  hardship  for  a  young  girl  from  the 
country,  I  should  like  to  inquire  ?  To  go  where  I  go 
and  do  what  I  do  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  replied  curtly.  "  It  depends 
upon  the  girl.  If  she  is  a  toady,  she  will  enjoy  it 
vastly  for  a  time,  because  she  will  be  playing  her  own 
game.  But  if  she  has  an  atom  of  honesty  in  her 
composition,  she  would  rather  go  out  on  the  road  and 
break  stones." 

He  moved  his  hands  restlessly,  his  cheeks  were  hot. 

"  You  have  a  singularly  unamiable  way  of  present 
ing  your  views  "  —  she  complained,  hesitated  a  mo 
ment,  then  with  increasing  coldness,  "  For  my  part  I 
anticipate  only  agreeable  experiences  with  Gabrielle. 
I  have  had  the  rose-room  prepared  for  her." 

Hugo  threw  back  his  head,  rolled  up  his  eyes  to 
ward  his  frescoed  ceiling,  and  stared  at  a  flying  swal 
low  under  a  cloudy  sky. 

The  countess  was  never  calm  under  disapproval. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  said,  in  peevish  interrogation. 

He  stared  persistently  at  the  bird  and  did  not  open 
his  lips. 

"  I  meant  it  as  a  pleasant  surprise  for  you.  She 
arrives  to-day." 

Still  no  response  from  Hugo. 

"  Have  you  nothing  to  say,  Hugo  ?  Why  do  you  do 
that  ?  "  she  demanded  with  great  irritation. 

"  I  congratulate  the  Frau  Major,"  he  said  at  length. 

"  Nonsense  !  You  do  her  injustice.  I  sometimes 
think  she  is  the  only  faithful  friend  I  have." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  39 

"  There  is  safety  in  your  '  sometimes.'  Should  you 
always  think  so  —  vce  metis  !  —  And  mamma,  when 
she  has  decided  upon  your  course  another  time,  pray 
dispense  with  my  superfluous  reflections.  I  have  not 
over-abundant  vitality.  Why  should  I  waste  it  attack 
ing  your  foregone  conclusions  ?  I  suppose  she  means 
Lorenz  and  Egon  to  run  ?  I  bet  you  five  to  one  on 
Lorenz.  Just  give  me  a  hint  from  time  to  time  which 
leads.  And  otherwise,  mamma,  leave  me  out  of  your 
calculations.  Don't  ask  me  to  burn  incense  when  the 
girl  comes,  or  fling  brickbats  when  she  goes.  Once  for 
all,  I  wash  my  hands  in  innocence." 

"  Hugo,"  said  the  countess  rising,  "  I  consider  some 
of  your  remarks  coarse." 

"  It  is  the  nature  of  man,"  he  returned  uncompro 
misingly. 

She  was  angry  he  saw  by  her  increased  paleness. 
The  black  lace  of  her  coquettish  French  cap  with  its 
crimson  rose  trembled  wrathfully,  and  so  did  the 
smooth  white  hands.  She  was  a  handsome  woman 
still,  he  thought,  with  her  regular  features,  her  deli 
cate,  wonderfully  preserved  skin,  and  her  gray  hair  of 
exquisite  quality,  and  beautiful  enough  to  frame  the 
pure  and  serene  countenance  of  a  typical,  aged  saint. 
He  watched  her  with  his  flashing,  unpleasant  smile. 
Whatever  self-command  she  had  she  was  apt  to  use 
in  his  presence. 

"  I  really  ought  to  go,"  she  said,  "  I  have  worlds 
to  do,  and  it  must  be  nearly  two  o'clock." 

"  I  will  call  Lipps,"  and  he  raised  his  whistle. 

Her  cold  eyes  looked  uneasy  and  wandering.  She 
stood  by  her  son  resenting  his  disapproval.  Lipps 
came  in  and  held  the  door  open  for  her.  "  Oh,  I  saw 
you  on  the  lawn,  this  morning.  You  bore  it  well,  I 
hope." 


40  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

44  Well  enough,  thanks." 

"  I  am  glad  to  hear  that,"  she  remarked  formally. 
"  And  you  are  sleeping  well  ?  " 

"  Well  enough,  thanks,"  he  said  again,  still  with 
the  smile  that  made  her  uncomfortable,  and  reminded 
her  of  the  late  count. 

44  That  is  more  than  I  can  say.     My  neuralgia  " 
she  murmured,  "  and  Mousey  is  so  restless  —  and  those 
horrid  workmen  begin  now  before  seven.    You  are  for 
tunate  that  they  are  not  on  your  side  of  the  house." 

"  Very  fortunate." 

"  Well,  a  pleasant  day  to  you,  Hugo.  I  am  glad  to 
be  able  to  give  so  good  an  account  of  you  to  your 
friends.  As  you  are  determined  not  to  approve  of  Ga- 
brielle,  I  presume  I  need  not  hasten  to  present  her." 

44  No,  that  ceremony  can  be  indefinitely  postponed." 
She  extended  her  hand,  which  he  again  raised  mechani 
cally  to  his  lips. 

44  The  gracious  countess  is  served,"  announced  the 
fat  and  solemn  butler  at  the  door.  Presently  Mousey's 
bell  and  her  voluble  endearments  were  heard  in  the 
hall. 

"  I  wish  to  be  alone,"  said  the  count  to  his  man. 
"  Leave  me." 

An  hour  later  Lipps  stole  softly  in,  and  found  the 
invalid  asleep.  Two  bright  spots  glowed  on  his  cheeks, 
and  from  time  to  time  his  hands  twitched  nervously. 
In  a  distant  corner  the  little  black  book  lay  spread  out 
on  its  face,  as  if  flung  by  an  impatient  hand.  Lipps 
solicitously  smoothed  its  crumpled  leaves. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  WON'T  Mousey  say  goocl-by  to  his  poor  Mumsey  ?  " 
pleaded  the  countess. 

Mousey  emphatically  declared  that  he  would  not. 

"  But  I  cannot  take  you  to  the  chu-chu-train,  love, 
for  you  know  that  the  chu-chu-train  frightens  my 
little  pet,  and  the  noises  and  the  crowd  are  so  loud, 
and  the  bad,  bad  men  are  so  unkind  to  my  innocent 
lamb.  I  know  I  promised  you  should  go  out  with 
me,  but  I  have  been  detained,  and  there  is  110  time 
now,  dearest.  Don't  be  cruel,  Mousey ;  say  good-by 
and  smile  at  Mumsey  before  she  goes,  and  amuse 
yourself  well,  sweetheart,  until  I  come  with  a  pretty 
new  lady  to  play  with  you." 

But  Mousey  was  deaf  to  her  blandishments.  He 
would  not  give  his  paw  and  say  good-by,  a  ceremony 
which  he  always  performed  when  she  drove  out  and 
he  elected  to  remain  at  home.  He  had  expressed  his 
intention  to  go  to  meet  Gabrielle,  and  had  argued  the 
point  when  the  countess  deprecatingly  explained  to 
him  her  reasons  for  depriving  herself  of  his  compan 
ionship.  Now,  as  she  sought  to  coax  a  parting  smile 
upon  his  gloomy  countenance,  he  shook  his  small 
person  resentfully,  and  with  unspeakable  disdain 
turned  his  unaesthetic  back,  and  went  pattering  off 
toward  the  second  maid's  room.  His  wisdom  recog 
nized  the  inexorable  necessity  of  occasional  outward 
submission  to  human  will,  since  inscrutable  nature 
had  given  to  his  indomitable  spirit  so  minute  physical 


42  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

adjuncts,  that  a  struggle  with  the  countess,  the  butler, 
the  coachman,  and  two  maids  for  a  place  in  the  car 
riage  would  result  in  his  inglorious  defeat.  But  he 
knew  that  the  final  victory  would  be  his,  and  went  off 
grinning  like  a  fiend  to  plan  a  long  and  sweet  revenge 
consisting  in  a  delectable  perspective  of  slights  to  the 
countess. 

She,  meanwhile,  a  softly  attractive  Paris  bonnet 
perched  upon  her  silvery  hair,  her  face  set,  cold,  and 
composed,  drove  to  the  Frau  Major's.  She  felt  more 
than  ever  in  need  of  the  balm  of  the  Frau  Major's 
presence,  after  Hugo's  opposition.  In  the  complex 
mechanism  of  the  Countess  of  Kronfels'  soul  one  need 
was  paramount,  the  oil  of  adulation  upon  the  axles 
of  her  capriciously  revolving  deeds.  Yet,  since  in 
spite  of  being  held  in  bondage  by  Mousey  she  was  by 
no  means  a  stupid  woman,  the  lubricator  of  her  fickle 
wheels  of  action  required  unusual  versatility  of  in 
tellect,  a  nice  touch  on  the  pulse  of  society,  as  well  as 
many  other  special  gifts.  All  of  these  the  Frau  Major 
von  Funnel  possessed  to  an  eminent  degree.  For  ex 
ample,  the  countess  changed  her  opinions  with  the 
wind  ;  the  Frau  Major,  without  surprise  or  argument, 
blandly  changed  with  her.  The  countess  contradicted 
to-day  what  she  had  solemnly  affirmed  yesterday ;  the 
Frau  Major  with  gentle  aplomb  did  likewise.  The 
countess  was  often  irritable,  uneasy,  uncertain,  vacil 
lating  ;  the  Frau  Major,  with  her  unique  command  of 
language,  would  soothe  her  friend's  most  impossible 
mood,  and  tell  her  she  was  a  "  loving,  sensitive  soul," 
when  others  were  flying  to  bathe  their  wounds. 

The  Frau  Major  did  not  heap  on  flattery  with  a 
trowel,  after  the  manner  of  a  coarser  artisan.  She 
knew  that  when  one  is  surrounded  by  sycophants, 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  43 

one's  taste  is  cloyed  with  sweets,  and  while  one's 
appetite  is  insatiable,  it  is  only  the  novel  and  pungent 
flavor  that  one  relishes.  Yet  the  charm  of  her  low, 
peculiar,  penetrating  voice  that  one  heard  at  a  dinner 
party,  though  a  dozen  ordinary  mortals  were  speaking, 
endowed  her  lightest  word  with  profound  significance. 

Not  only  to  the  countess,  but  to  every  person, 
young  or  old,  rich  or  poor,  with  whom  she  associated, 
she  offered  the  tribute  of  peculiar  interest  and  per 
sonal  devotion.  Her  way  of  saying  the  simple  word 
"you"  had  enthralled  legions  of  hearts.  Her  noble 
head  with  its  handsomely  marked  features,  strong 
nose  and  chin,  deep-set  cold  eyes  and  heavy  mouth 
might  have  belonged  to  the  wiliest  statesman  in  an 
album  of  "Portraits  of  Eminent  Men."  But  her 
charming  smile,  the  softness  of  her  curling  gray  hair 
which  lay  in  babylike  rings  round  her  forehead,  and 
her  low  magnetic  voice  suggested  to  the  ordinary  ob 
server  only  her  ultra-feminine  attributes.  Her  man 
ner  was  simple,  sincere,  and  possessed  the  rare  charm 
of  perfect  repose.  In  a  crowded  theatre  or  concert 
room,  the  noble  profile  and  self-contained  expression 
of  the  Frau  Major  afforded  a  positive  delight  to  the 
weary  eye,  seeking  beauty  or  character  in  rows  of 
commonplace  beings.  Walking,  she  was  less  impos 
ing,  having  a  short,  plump  figure,  and  a  curious  wad 
dling  gait. 

Few  society  women  had  done  more  good  in  the 
world  than  she.  And  whatever  were  the  recording 
angel's  private  convictions,  he  had  in  his  books  a 
long  list  of  helpful  if  conventional  charities  to  her 
credit.  She  figured  largely  in  philanthropic  societies 
and  clubs,  and  was  prominent  in  benevolent  bazars. 
In  soliciting  funds  for  her  asylums  she  was  incompara- 


44  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

ble,  and  the  man  who  could  say  her  nay  was  almost 
unknown,  so  persuasive  was  her  gentle  voice,  so  calm 
and  reasonable  her  argument,  so  inexpressibly  signifi 
cant  her  trusting  appeal  to  "you." 

She  carried  her  fifty  years  with  marvellous  grace, 
and  made  her  home  attractive  to  scores  of  gay  young 
men  and  pretty  girls,  all  of  whom  sung  her  praises 
with  warmth.  There  was  not  one  of  them  that  did 
not  cherish  the  ingenuous  conviction  that  he  or  she 
was  the  special  pet  of  the  Frau  Major  ;  not  a  mid 
dle-aged  woman  in  the  circle  but  deemed  herself  the 
Frau  Major's  most  intimate  friend  ;  while  clever  men 
never  left  her  benign  presence  without  the  reflection 
that  here,  at  least,  was  a  woman  of  rare  insight,  who 
knew  how  to  revere  a  godlike  intellect.  She  won 
affection,  respect,  influence,  power,  and  her  indomi 
table  will,  working  with  ceaseless  activity  and  wisest 
tact,  kept  what  she  gained.  "  She  deserves  her  troops 
of  friends,"  people  often  remarked,  "  for  she  is  so 
kind.  When  does  she  ever  say  an  uncharitable 
word  ?  "  In  truth,  she  never  blamed,  never  criticised, 
never  did  anything  that  could  displease  or  wound. 
She  knew  that  all  walls  have  ears,  and  that  a  bird  in 
the  air  sooner  or  later  chirps  to  the  world  most  spoken 
words.  Therefore,  if  some  quick  tongue  pronounced 
a  woman  ugly  and  untidy,  the  Frau  Major  would 
smile  lovingly  on  the  speaker,  and  add,  "  But  a  dear 
motherly  soul."  She  might  never  have  seen  the  person 
in  question  with  a  child,  might  not  know  she  had  one, 
and  ugliness  and  untidiness  do  not  necessarily  suggest 
motherliness  to  the  ordinary  mind.  It  was  simply 
the  Frau  Major's  habit  to  praise,  to  praise  largely, 
to  praise  at  morn,  at  noon,  at  night,  in  public,  in 
private,  everywhere  and  always.  It  would  almost 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  45 

seem  that  to  her  human  nature  had  no  frailties,  and 
that  crime  was  a  mere  invention  of  romance  and  the 
courts.  Her  universal  approval,  in  contrast  to  the 
habit  of  censorious  gossip  common  to  many  women, 
was  original  and  refreshing,  and  only  an  occasional 
grumbler,  like  Hugo  von  Kronfels,  took  exception  to 
it.  "  Is  it  possible,"  he  had  asked  himself  many  years 
before,  "  that  so  clever  a  woman  is  color-blind  ?  Is 
black  white  to  her ?  Is  night  day?  Does  she  perceive 
no  difference  between  noble  and  ignoble,  good  and 
bad  ?  Is  that  rich  old  profligate  Zwetchgen,  in  reality, 
as  she  says,  so  '  marvellously  tender  and  noble  in  the 
recesses  of  his  nature,  so  like  a  rich  pomegranate?' 
Are  those  vapid,  conscious,  envious,  senseless  Mayer 
sisters  '  such  dear  happy  little  sweethearts  ? '  Her 
mellifluous  cant  would  make  one  lose  all  sense  of  pro 
portion  ;  "  and  Hugo  watched  her  gravely,  and  never 
enrolled  himself  among  her  knights. 

But  the  Frau  Major  went  her  appointed  way,  —  a 
broad  and  flower-grown  path  it  was,  —  and  old  Zwetch 
gen,  having  heard  from  afar  how  profoundly  she  ad 
mired  him,  would  succumb  in  her  presence  to  the 
charm  of  her  gentle  and  deep  glances,  dedicated,  it 
seemed,  exclusively  to  him ;  and  his  purse,  closed  in 
general  to  all  things  except  his  selfish  pleasures, 
would  open  as  if  by  witchery  and  pour  its  gold  into 
her  tender  palm.  While  the  dear  happy  little  sweet 
hearts  hung  about  her  and  caressed  her,  and  basked 
in  her  unqualified  approval,  and  knew  that  in  spite  of 
her  engrossing  occupations,  and  important  friends, 
she  felt  for  them  a  "peculiar  and  close  affection,"  and 
it  is  needless  to  add  that  their  pin-cushions  and  baby- 
blankets  were  always  ready  for  her  fancy  fairs.  So 
her  charities  flourished,  and  all  was  loving-kindness. 


46  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Dear  Adelheid,"  she  said,  as  she  took  her  place 
beside  the  countess,  and  gave  her  hand  a  long  and 
gentle  pressure,  "  your  punctuality  is  admirable.  It 
is  really  a  comfort,  as  well  as  an  example  to  us  all," 
continued  the  earnest,  sympathetic  voice.  "  You  are 
feeling  tolerably  well  to-day?"  she  asked  with  solici 
tude. 

"  No,  I  am  far  from  well.  My  neuralgia  is  very 
trying,  and  I  am  fatigued  and  distressed,"  the  countess 
replied  in  a  nervous,  complaining  tone. 

"  You  are  so  sensitive,"  murmured  the  other. 

"Yes,  I  am  sensitive,  but  Hugo  never  considers 
that  in  the  least.  Of  course  I  make  allowances  for 
his  condition,"  she  said,  irritably,  "  but  he  is  often 
very  difficult,  very  unreasonable." 

"Men  do  not  know  how  to  bear  pain  as  well  as 
we,"  suggested  the  soothing  voice.  "  Poor,  dear 
Hugo  !  What  would  he  do  without  his  mother !  " 

"  He  has  been  unpleasant  about  Gabrielle.  I  hope 
it  is  a  wise  step.  I  hope  I  shall  not  regret  it.  What 
if  I  do  not  like  her?  What  if  she  should  be  ugly  and 
ordinary?  I  wish  I  had  not  engaged  myself  posi 
tively.  I  wish  I  had  taken  more  time  to  consider." 

These  flurried  doubts  and  fears  were  speedily  al 
layed  by  the  comforting  views  of  her  friend. 

"Naturally  your  judgment  is  wiser  than  poor 
Hugo's,  —  although  one  can  easily  comprehend  and 
sympathize  with  him ;  but  your  prompt  and  hearty 
decision  has  greatly  pleased  me,  and  that  you  stead 
fastly  adhere  to  your  purpose  is,  of  course,  only  what 
one  could  expect  of  —  you." 

Praised  for  steadfastness,  the  countess  looked  a 
trifle  less  nervous  and  harassed. 

"  Still  it  is  very  uncertain,"  she  urged. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  47 

"I  should  call  it  tolerably  certain,"  thought  the 
Frau  Major,  "  with  the  express  that  is  actually  bring 
ing  the  girl  almost  here." 

"  It  is  a  little  romantic,"  she  replied  encouragingly. 
"  I  have  always  found  the  loving,  youthful  element  in 
you  so  rare  and  so  attractive,  and  it  is  this  that  in 
duces  you  to  take  this  unknown  young  girl  to  your 
heart  and  home  and  make  her  happy." 

44 1  have  always  wished  that  I  had  a  daughter." 

44  She  will  seem  like  your  daughter,  dear  friend." 

"  I  have  believed  from  the  first  that  it  was  a  good 
plan,"  said  the  countess  with  the  decision  of  a  field- 
marshal. 

44  You  need  some  one  near  you  to  comprehend  you 
and  sympathize  with  you." 

44 1  shall  be  so  devoted  to  her  !  " 

44  The  Dohnas  are  a  handsome  race.  She  will  no 
doubt  look  well  in  your  carriage." 

44  After  the  dullness  of  Dohna,  how  she  will  enjoy 
city  life ! " 

44  Always  so  thoughtful  of  others  !  " 

44  Of  course  I  shall  have  to  open  the  house  again. 
Hugo  could  hardly  expect  me  to  shut  out  the  world 
forever." 

44  No,"  said  the  Frau  Major  very  sweetly.  44  You 
have  faithful  Leible  on  the  box,  I  see." 

44  Yes,  he  finds  people  better  than  the  footman. 
And  I  shall  remain  in  the  carriage.  It  makes  me 
fairly  ill  to  be  jostled  and  pushed  by  a  coarse  crowd." 

44  If  the  dear  girl  should  prove  to  be  all  that  we 
hope,  instead  of  a  year  she  may  remain  altogether," 
the  Frau  Major  suggested  innocently. 

44 1  do  hope  there  are  no  flagrant  irregularities  in 
her  education.  Her  father  is  a  perfect  cavalier,  or 


48  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

was  when  I  last  saw  him.  Perhaps  country  living  has 
dulled  him.  But  he  writes  me  Gabrielle  has  never 
had  a  governess.  I  was  rather  startled  when  I  read 
that.  I  pictured  her  a  savage." 

"  Whatever  there  may  be  amiss,  the  privilege  of 
living  with  you  will  be  a  liberal  education  to  her. 
With  your  tact  and  knowledge  of  the  world  you  can 
mould  her  as  you  desire.  And  after  all  she  is  a 
Dohna ;  and  your  cousin,  however  far  removed,  can 
not  be  uncouth  or  unpresentable." 

Now  the  irregularities  of  Gabrielle  von  Dohna's 
education  would  have  made  any  enlightened  principal 
of  an  institute  for  the  higher  culture  of  young  ladies 
shudder  and  shrink.  Measured  by  conventional  stand 
ards,  Gabrielle  knew  those  things  which  she  ought  not 
to  have  known,  and  did  not  know  those  things  which 
she  ought  to  have  known.  Her  free  life  on  her 
father's  estate,  her  supreme  importance  in  the  adja 
cent  village,  her  constant  association  with  him,  had 
made  her  his  good  comrade  and  friend,  and  a  verita 
ble  if  an  unconscious  autocrat. 

When  Ernst  von  Dohna  lost  his  beloved  wife,  his 
only  child  was  but  five  years  old,  and  he  scarcely 
thirty.  To  his  simple  and  direct  nature  his  duties 
lay  plainly  defined  before  him  :  to  clear  the  estate  of 
the  encumbrances  with  which  he  had  inherited  it,  and 
to  devote  himself  to  his  little  motherless  daughter. 
The  first  task,  he  knew,  would  be  long  and  laborious, 
perhaps  beyond  his  strength.  The  second  he  ingenu 
ously  regarded  as  natural  and  easy.  He  had  no  theo 
ries  whatever  in  regard  to  rearing  girls.  Gabrielle 
was  his  own  and  looked  at  him  with  her  mother's  lim 
pid,  honest  eyes.  He  remembered  that  one  of  the  first 
things  that  his  father  had  taught  him  was  the  some- 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  49 

what  antiquated  sentiment  that  he  was  a  gentleman, 
and  a  gentleman  must  hate  a  lie.  Without  more  ado, 
he  impressed  upon  his  five-year-old  Gabrielle  that  she 
was  a  lady,  and  a  lady  must  hate  a  lie.  He  remem 
bered,  too,  that  he  had  been  happy  as  a  child  in 
his  love  for  his  horse.  Accordingly  little  Gabrielle 
learned  to  hate  a  lie  and  love  a  horse.  She  rode  be 
side  him  on  her  pony  every  day,  and  heard  his  orders 
to  his  farm-laborers ;  knew  a  field  of  wheat  from  a 
field  of  barley;  had  an  intimate  knowledge  of  bird- 
notes,  trees,  and  animals;  loved  every  living  thing 
she  saw,  down  to  caterpillars,  lizards,  and  snails  ;  was 
an  eager  and  omnivorous  reader  for  her  age  ;  and 
these  accomplishments  composed  the  entire  education 
of  the  little  Baroness  von  Dohna,  up  to  her  eleventh 
year. 

Then  it  suddenly  occurred  to  her  father  that  per 
haps  she  ought  to  study  something.  He  remembered 
that  a  tutor  used  to  give  him  Latin  and  mathematics 
when  he  was  even  younger  than  Gabrielle.  There 
were  no  aunts  and  cousins  to  tell  him  that  she  ought 
to  have  a  governess  or  be  sent  to  school,  and  that  it 
was  ridiculous  to  treat  her  like  a  boy.  He  had  no 
desire  to  see  strangers  in  his  house,  and  no  money  to 
pay  for  their  services.  He  therefore,  with  great 
tranquillity  of  spirit,  began  to  work  with  the  child 
evenings.  It  was,  of  course,  the  wrong  time  of  day, 
but  he  and  Gabrielle  enjoyed  themselves  and  were 
quite  unaware  that  there  was  anything  curious  in  their 
conduct.  Thrown  constantly  upon  his  companion 
ship,  she  absorbed  much  from  him,  and  his  thoughts 
and  language  descended  upon  her.  The  hearty,  un 
restrained  child  reached  up  with  all  the  tendrils  of 
her  loving  nature  toward  him,  while  he  leaned  down 


50  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

toward  her,  needed  her,  and  depended  upon  her,  since 
young  as  she  was,  she  was  his  sympathetic  and  blithe 
little  comrade,  both  in  his  work  and  in  his  hours  of 
rest. 

His  means  did  not  allow  large  hospitality,  but  when 
friends  announced  themselves,  or  a  dinner  party  was 
inevitable,  the  small  person  who  did  the  honors  of  his 
table  was  no  disgrace  to  his  name.  At  least,  no  one 
criticised  her  to  him.  One  hardly  chooses  the  mo 
ment  of  eating  a  man's  meats,  and  drinking  his  wines, 
to  find  fault  with  his  daughter,  and  his  women  guests 
were  naturally  lenient  to  the  amiable  widower,  and  all 
that  was  his. 

Long  winter  evenings,  when  no  mortal  approached 
the  snow-bound  Schloss,  father  and  daughter  sat 
together  in  the  library.  It  may  be  he  forgot  how 
young  she  was ;  it  may  be  nobody  had  ever  told  him 
how  gradually  one  ought  to  appeal  to  a  child's  intelli 
gence,  but  the  truth  is,  the  misguided  man  would 
often  look  up  from  his  book  to  discuss  a  knotty  point 
with  the  long-haired,  short-skirted  philosopher  in  her 
low  chair  by  the  fire. 

"  My  dear,  just  listen  to  this,"  he  would  say,  read 
ing  with  convincing  emphasis  :  "  Professor  R.  declares 
so  and  so,  which  is  simply  preposterous ;  whereas 
Professor  S.,  by  far  the  greater  authority,  distinctly 
states  the  contrary.  Now  if  R.'s  position  were  tena 
ble,  don't  you  see  that,"  etc.  Gabrielle,  listening,  as 
if  her  life  depended  upon  her  attention,  and  gravely 
nodding,  would  unhesitatingly  support  the  theory  of 
Professor  S.  If  a  poem  delighted  him,  he  would  read 
it  to  her.  Travels,  inventions,  politics,  earnest  ques 
tions  of  the  day,  he  laid  before  her  as  if  thinking 
aloud,  and  more  for  his  own  satisfaction  than  with  any 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  51 

defined  purpose  of  improving  her  mind.  When  she 
ceased  to  nod  invariable  assent,  like  a  little  pagoda, 
when  she  began  to  understand  things  for  their  own 
sake  and  hers,  to  advance  fresh  opinions,  to  question, 
and  now  and  then  to  differ,  he  no  more  knew  than 
the  exact  moment  when  dawn  becomes  day. 

They  were  all  and  all  to  each  other,  and  awaited  no 
change.  One  day  was  like  another,  and  the  years 
went  softly  by.  He  smilingly  called  himself  an 
old  man  and  Gabrielle  at  twenty-one  seemed  still  a 
child  to  him,  when  something  happened  which  trans 
formed  all  his  comfortable  convictions.  He  discov 
ered  that  a  man  is  still  young  at  forty-six,  in  spite  of 
gray  theories  and  gray  hairs,  —  most  ardently  and 
longingly  young.  He  discovered  also,  in  this  moment 
of  illumination,  that  a  spirited  girl  past  twenty,  who 
has  never  seen  the  world,  would  be  incalculably  ben 
efited  by  the  society  of  a  lovely  and  experienced 
woman.  He  pictured  by  his  fireside  in  the  future,  not 
alone  his  faithful  comrade,  but  another  with  suave 
smiling  ways,  learned  in  a  so-called  larger  world  than 
Gabrielle  had  known. 

It  all  happened  so  easily.  For  many  years  he  had 
as  far  as  possible  declined,  because  he  could  not  suit 
ably  return,  the  proffered  hospitality  of  the  land-own 
ers  of  the  region.  As  his  patient  effort  began  to  tell, 
and  the  disreputable  mountain  of  debt  and  mortgages 
which  he  had  inherited  from  his  illustrious  forefathers 
had  gradually  contracted  into  a  modest  hillock,  he 
met  an  old  acquaintance,  one  day,  and  rode  with  him 
through  the  woods.  The  result  was  an  invitation 
to  dine,  which  von  Dohna  cheerfully  accepted  for 
himself  and  his  daughter. 

Happily  Lucie  von  Rahden  was  a  very  good  woman. 


52  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

A  rich  and  childless  widow  who  had  made  the  best  of 
a  bad  matrimonial  bargain,  she  was  determined  never 
to  repeat  her  experiment,  but  to  enjoy  life  in  her 
independent,  sunny  fashion  the  rest  of  her  days.  Her 
uncompromising  views  in  regard  to  a  second  marriage 
she  was  wont  to  expound  in  a  pleasingly  satirical 
manner,  for  the  entertainment  of  friends.  Neverthe 
less  she  with  her  prejudices,  and  he  with  his,  fell  in 
love  at  a  dinner  party  in  good  old  orthodox  fashion. 

Gabrielle  came  home  and  wept  bitterly.  It  was 
her  first  sleepless  night,  except  when  she  had  watched 
by  an  ill  child  in  the  village  ;  and  she  found  that  pity 
and  anxiety  and  fatigue  were  after  all  more  restful 
companions  for  a  long  night  than  these  newly  roused 
spirits  of  wounded  pride  and  jealousy,  these  rebellious 
passionate  feelings  to  which  indeed  she  gave  no  name. 

The  next  morning  her  papa  rode  away  with  a  flower 
in  his  button-hole.  Every  day  she  wandered  alone  in 
the  old  familiar  paths,  and  he  rode  off  gayly  in  the 
other  direction.  She  grew  unhappy,  unjust,  and  very 
lonely.  She  did  not  know  that  she  was  jealous. 
How  should  she  ?  One  does  not  lightly  admit  the 
presence  of  that  quality.  Jealousy  to  Gabrielle  meant 
Othello,  Eleanor,  the  Princess  Eboli,  Medea,  and  such 
people  ;  while  she  was  merely  hurt,  neglected,  suspi 
cious,  and  sorrowful. 

Von  Dohna  and  Frau  von  Rahden  advanced  rap 
idly  toward  a  perfect  understanding.  One  day  he 
expressed  his  surprise  at  the  new  born  unreasonable 
ness  of  his  daughter.  She  had  been  the  dearest  girl 
all  her  life,  loving,  appreciative,  sympathetic,  and  so 
clear  in  her  judgment.  Now  she  seemed  quite 
changed.  She  avoided  him  and  his  confidences,  with 
reserve  and  obstinacy.  She  had  shared  his  joys  and 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  53 

sorrows  to  a  most  unusual  degree.  Now  she  said 
coldly :  "  I  don't  understand  you,  papa,"  and  the 
more  he  explained  the  situation,  the  more  uncomfort 
able  it  grew. 

"  There  is  but  one  remedy,"  said  Lucie  von  Rahden. 

"  And  what  may  that  be  ?  " 

"  Send  her  away  for  a  while." 

"  Lucie,  she  has  never  been  separated  from  me  a 
day  in  her  life.  She  would  be  miserable.  It  would 
seem  cruel  to  her." 

"  It  would  be  the  wisest  and  kindest  thing  you 
could  do." 

"  But  why  should  I  ?  Why  should  Gabrielle  not 
rejoice  in  my  happiness  ?  Would  I  not  rejoice  in 
hers?" 

"  But  yours  has  come  first,"  returned  Lucie  with  a 
charming  smile,  "  so  you  can  afford  to  be  generous." 

"  She  cannot  live  with  you  without  yielding  to 
your  charm.  The  daily  intercourse  will  win  her  com 
pletely.  She  does  not  know  you  yet.  The  idea  of 
change  has  startled  her." 

"  My  dear  Ernst,  what  you  are  good  enough  to 
call  my  '  charm '  will  madden  the  poor  child,  and 
the  '  daily  intercourse  '  will  irritate  her  beyond  en 
durance." 

"  I  was  so  sure  that  she  would  love  you,"  he  said 
helplessly. 

"It  is  because  I  am  determined  that  she  shall  love 
me  that  I  advise  sending  her  away  from  me  at  once. 
See,  Ernst,  if  we  three  live  at  Dohna  together,  the 
situation  will  be  frightfully  strained.  Gabrielle  will 
regard  me  as  her  enemy,  nothing  more  or  less.  Do 
what  I  will,  I  cannot  please  her.  If  you  finally  de 
cide  that  this  is  best,"  remarked  the  wise  little  woman, 


54  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  of  course  I  shall  agree,  and  then  I  should  not  despair 
of   gaining  her   affection   in   time,  but  it  will   take 

—  ages!" 

"  I  do  not  think  you  realize  how  reasonable  Gabri- 
elle  is,"  he  urged. 

"  Ah,  what  has  this  to  do  with  reason  —  when  a 
girl  sets  her  lips  as  Gabrielle  does,  and  grows  icy  at 
the  mere  sight  of  me.  And  I  do  not  blame  her  in 
the  least.  It  is  altogether  natural.  What  she  says 
is  true.  She  does  not  understand.  She  does  not 
know  what  love  is,"  she  added  softly. 

"  See,  dear,"  she  went  on  candidly,  "  I  will  tell  you 
all  I  have  thought,  and  if  you  know  anything  better, 
I  will  yield;  but  this  is  not  a  light  question,  since 
Gabrielle  is  not  a  child,  but  a  very  spirited,  decided 
girl.  I  even  believe  that  she  herself  will  approve 
my  plan.  If  she  does  not,  we  will  stay  here,  if  you 
prefer.  But  all  my  life  I  have  longed  to  travel  — 
to  travel  far  and  with  one  person,  who  never  came, 

—  and  now  he  is  come !     And  you,  during  all  your 
years  of   seclusion  with   your   little   daughter,   have 
longed  not  for  the  world,  the  gay  world  which  you 
used  to  know,  but  also  for  travel,  for  strange  lands 
and  new  people.     You  confessed  all  that  to  me  at 
that  blessed  dinner. 

"Why  should  we  not,  dearest?"  she  murmured 
caressingly.  "  You  have  had  your  sorrows  and  your 
heavy  cares.  I  have  had  mine.  But  happiness  has 
come  to  us.  If  we  have  a  right  to  it,  let  us  seize  it 
like  young  lovers.  Let  us  be  glad  and  at  peace.  Let 
us  go  to  —  Japan,  and  —  everywhere,"  she  pleaded. 
"  Give  Gabrielle  the  choice  of  going  with  us.  She 
will  refuse.  And  it  is  not  cruel  to  leave  her,  —  it  is 
not  selfish,  except  so  far  as  it  is  selfish  to  love  you 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  55 

and  be  happy;  it  will  be  the  best  thing  in  the  end 
for  us  all." 

"  But  where  —  how  ?  What  could  I  do  with  the 
dear  girl?  If  we  should  go  off  on  this  marvellous 
trip,"  he  said  smiling  doubtfully,  "  I  should  have  to 
close  the  house.  Perhaps  Gabrielle  would  like  to  stay 
at  the  rectory." 

"  At  Dohiia  ?  At  a  country  parson's  ?  Never  !  " 
laughed  Lucie.  "  No,  no  ;  send  her  into  the  world, 
where,  however  happy  the  auspices,  she  must  meet 
with  some  insincerity,  some  deceptions  and  disap 
pointments,  and  where  her  own  sweet  will  cannot  rule 
all  things  as  at  Dohna.  And  then,  don't  you  see,  you 
stupid  man  —  if  you  were  a  woman  you  would  have 
understood  without  a  word  ;  but  then  if  you  were  a 
woman  I  should  n't  love  you  so  much  !  —  don't  you 
see,  when  she  comes  back  there  will  be  a  chance 
for  me  ?  And  believe  me,  Ernst,  then  we  shall  really 
be  friends,  good  loving  friends, — your  child  and  your 
wife." 

"  Is  it  not  a  rather  roundabout  course  ?  " 

"  It  only  seems  so,"  she  replied  cheerfully.  "  I 
shall  reach  her  heart  sooner  via  Japan  than  via 
Dohna." 

"  Hm !  And  you  propose  giving  her  a  course  of 
disappointments." 

"  That  is  a  man's  way  of  expressing  it.  I  propose 
to  help  you  find  the  very  nicest  people  socially  who 
would  most  naturally  receive  her,  that  is,  relatives 
of  your  own,  city-people  of  course.  Do  you  know, 
it  is  a  very  good  thing  for  Gabrielle  that  I  appeared. 
What  were  you  going  to  do  with  her  ?  Did  it  never 
occur  to  you  that  a  girl  like  Gabrielle  usually  mar 
ries  ?  Indeed,  you  have  kept  her  here  quite  long 
enough." 


56  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Is  there  anything  the  matter  with  her  ?  "  he  asked, 
conscience-stricken. 

Lucie  laughed. 

"  She  is  the  most  charming  little  despot  I  ever  saw. 
No,  Ernst,  seriously  she  is  a  girl  in  a  thousand.  You 
have  done  wonderfully  well  with  her.  But  she  is 
a  Sleeping  Beauty  in  the  Wood,  and  not  a  prince  in 
sight." 

"  You  would  hardly  expect  me  to  send  her  hunting 
for  one  ?  "  he  said  gravely. 

"  By  no  means.  Only  I  would  let  her  see  a  few. 
And  nowadays  princes  prefer  city-life." 

The  next  time,  which  was  soon,  that  von  Dohna 
and  Lucie  discussed  this  subject,  it  was  he  who  pro 
posed  some  of  these  already  suggested  details,  and  she 
who  listened  and  smilingly  approved. 

After  various  tentative  correspondences,  the  cordial 
response  of  the  Countess  of  Kronfels  allayed  all  his 
doubts,  difficulties,  and  embarrassment,  for  his  desire 
to  make  suitable  arrangements  for  Gabrielle  was  only 
equalled  by  the  countess's  ardent  wish  to  take  the 
young  girl  to  her  heart  and  home.  Their  needs  dove 
tailed  with  comforting  precision.  The  countess  al 
luded  delicately  and  tenderly  to  her  son's  condition 
and  to  her  grief  and  loneliness. 

Another  distant  relative  declared  herself  willing  to 
receive  Gabrielle,  and  promised  her  a  gay  season  with 
her  own  daughters. 

"  You  might  be  happier  with  girls,  Gabrielle,"  her 
father  suggested  anxiously. 

But  Gabrielle,  who  had  fulfilled  Lucie's  prophecy 
by  emphatically  declining  the  voyage,  and  by  ex 
pressing  a  deep  desire  to  go  among  strangers,  now 
remarked  quietly,  — 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  57 

"  No,  papa,  I  would  prefer  to  go  to  the  Countess 
Kronfels." 

"  She  is  past  sixty,  and  it  may  be  dull  for  you,  dear 
child." 

"  No,  I  shall  like  it,"  she  persisted.  "  I  like  old 
ladies." 

"  She  is  not  a  chimney-corner  old  lady,  I  believe," 
Lucie  said  demurely. 

"  She  was  a  handsome  woman  of  the  world  when  I 
last  saw  her.  What  she  is  now  we  can  better  judge 
when  we  go  on  to  Wynburg.  And  then  if  you  don't 
think  you  are  going  to  be  happy,  we  '11  change  our 
minds,  little  girl.  We  '11  run  away." 

"But,  papa,  is  it  not  decided?  How  could  we 
run  away  ?  And  indeed,  I  wish  to  go  to  Wynburg. 
Only  I  would  rather  go  alone.  That  is,  not  with  you, 
papa.  Please  let  me  go  alone,  or  send  one  of  the  ser 
vants  ;  if  you  like  I  would  rather  begin  quite  fresh  — 
not  see  your  face  there,  and  then  miss  it,"  she  added 
low  and  pleadingly. 

"  But,  my  darling  child  "  —  he  began. 

"  It  is  the  only  thing  you  can  do  for  me  —  now," 
she  murmured  wistfully. 

"  Why  not  let  her  have  her  will?  "  Lucie's  cheery 
voice  broke  in.  "  She  is  not  going  among  dragons. 
The  worldly  auspices  could  not  be  better.  She  will 
see  life  and  have  great  social  advantages." 

Gabrielle  looked  at  her  gravely. 

"  I  like  old  ladies,  and  I  would  like  to  know  Count 
Hugo,  and  help  his  mother  take  care  of  him.  That  is 
why  I  should  like  to  go  to  Wynburg." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

GABEIELLE  and  her  father  stood  in  the  library,  and 
all  the  tranquil  years  and  their  dear  memories  seemed 
to  pass  in  review  before  her. 

"  Be  happy,  child,"  he  said  folding  her  in  his  arms, 
"  and  if  you  are  not  going  to  be  happy,  come  with  us. 
If  you  waver  —  if  you  fear,  your  place  is  with  me. 
You  are  my  own  precious  child.  If  you  should  be  un 
happy  I  should  never  forgive  myself,"  and  the  warm 
tone  of  his  voice  comforted  and  strengthened  her. 

She  clung  to  him  silently. 

"  I  will  telegraph  that  you  will  not  come,"  he  said, 
moved  by  the  soft  clinging  arms.  "  You  and  Lucie 
and  I  will  go  off  together." 

She  raised  her  head  and  smiled,  though  her  eyes 
were  wet. 

"  Think  what  little  girls  go  to  boarding-school, 
papa.  One  would  imagine  I  was  an  infant  in  arms  ! 
Be  happy  yourself,  papa,  and  come  back  safe  to 
Dohna.  If  you  love  me,  I  am  not  afraid." 

"  I  love  you  with  all  my  heart." 

"  Not  all,  for  you  love  Lucie,"  she  insisted. 

"  I  love  her  with  all  my  heart,  too,"  he  said,  smil 
ing. 

"  Then  you  have  two  hearts,  papa  !  " 

"  It  may  be.  But  nothing  011  earth  can  make  my 
beloved  child  less  dear  to  me.  Eemember  that,  what 
ever  may  grieve  you  during  our  separation.  Remem 
ber  that  I  love  you  always,  and  trust  you  perfectly." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  59 

"  Then  I  shall  be  content,"  she  said  bravely. 

It  was  shortly  after  the  wedding  in  the  village 
church.  Gabrielle  had  chosen  this  day  for  her  de 
parture. 

"  Let  us  go  to  her,"  she  said.  "  We  are  leaving 
her  so  long." 

"  She  understands." 

"  And  she  will  have  you  a  whole  year,"  Gabrielle 
added  quickly. 

"  I  fear  I  am  very  selfish,"  she  said  to  Lucie,  look 
ing  earnestly  in  her  eyes. 

"  My  dear  Gabrielle,  liking  step-mothers  is  a  culti 
vated  taste,"  replied  Lucie  with  a  smile  and  a  sigh. 

"  I  did  not  know  you  at  all,"  the  young  girl  mur 
mured,  watching  her  intently. 

"  Some  time  you  will  know  me,"  the  older  woman 
returned  very  kindly.  "  Some  time  I  hope  that  you 
will  find  me  worth  loving." 

"  If  papa  loves  you,  you  are  worth  loving,"  Ga 
brielle  answered  gravely,  "  and  I  hope  "  —  she  hesi 
tated —  "  I  will  try  to  be  fair,"  she  said  simply. 

"  That  is  quite  enough,"  Lucie  assured  her  cor 
dially.  "  And  some  day,  that  happy  far-off  some  day, 
you  will  understand  that  I  am  in  reality  taking  no 
thing  from  you." 

Gabrielle  shook  her  head  sadly  and  turned  away. 

She  did  not  wish  to  be  tragic,  and  make  scenes,  but 
it  seemed  to  her  that  Lucie  had  taken  from  her  all 
that  she  held  dear,  —  her  father,  her  home,  her  peace 
of  mind ;  and  as  she  passed  down  the  steps  and 
through  the  great  gates,  where  the  servants  were  gath 
ered  weeping  and  wailing,  —  no  doubt  with  sincere 
affection  for  their  young  mistress,  yet  also  impelled 
by  their  sense  of  conventional  appropriateness,  to 


00  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

accentuate  the  sadness  of  parting  and  the  luxury  of 
woe,  —  and  when  the  huge  Leonberger  followed  her 
to  the  carriage  with  a  bitterly  reproachful  air,  and 
threw  back  his  head  and  howled  forth  his  sentiments, 
she  felt  like  little  less  than  a  dethroned  queen. 

The  old  housekeeper,  who  served  as  escort,  wept 
comfortably  from  time  to  time,  partly  with  pleasure  at 
the  thought  of  visiting  her  son  whom  she  had  not  seen 
in  years,  and  partly  with  excitement  caused  by  the 
prospect  of  a  journey  of  twenty-four  hours  to  South 
Germany.  Gabrielle  soothed  her  kindly,  and  felt  that 
she  herself  was  very  wretched.  But  perfect  health, 
youth,  and  a  good  conscience  were  surprisingly  rapid 
consolers  for  her  grade  of  misery.  The  long  journey 
through  the  night  was  like  a  strange  dream.  A  thou 
sand  new  things  interested  her,  and  she  was  full  of 
eagerness  as  to  her  coming  experiences,  and  confident 
of  her  devotion  to  the  countess,  whom  she  pictured 
quite  clearly,  and  to  Count  Hugo,  to  whom  she  would 
read  hour  after  hour,  and  bring  flowers.  "  I  must  tell 
him  papa  says  I  play  a  very  decent  game  of  chess," 
she  thought,  suddenly  waking  from  a  queer  vision  of 
old  familiar  things  and  imagined  scenes  with  Hugo 
and  his  mother,  as  the  train  glided  into  a  brilliantly 
lighted  station  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning.  But 
this  was  not  her  destination,  and  she  slept  the  broken 
half  sleep  of  the  night  traveller  again. 

When  she  stepped  from  the  coupe  arriving  at  Wyn- 
burg,  and  Leible  with  unerring  instinct  accosted  her, 
she  realized  that  she  was  launched  on  an  unknown 
sea.  He  seized  her  travelling  bag  and  piloted  her 
through  the  crowd. 

She  came  on  with  the  easy  step  of  a  good  walker. 
Her  clear  young  eyes,  trained  to  long  distances,  saw 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  61 

vividly,  before  she  reached  the  carriage,  the  faces  of 
the  two  ladies  in  the  open  landau,  both  turned  to 
ward  her,  the  correct  coachman's  profile,  the  sober 
livery,  the  over-fed  handsome  bays,  the  people  pass 
ing,  a  clock  on  a  public  building  opposite,  and  a  vane 
by  which  she  instinctively  noted  the  points  of  the 
compass  and  the  way  of  the  wind,  remembering  the 
old  weather-cock  at  Dohna,  and  how  she  watched  it 
at  harvest  time. 

"  Thank  Heaven  she  is  not  countrified !  "  was  the 
countess's  pious  exclamation. 

"  She  looks  so  clever  and  decided,"  murmured  the 
Frau  Major  admiringly.  "  Too  clever,  too  decided,  I 
fear,"  she  privately  commented.  "  Moulding  her  will 
be  no  easy  task,  still  with  patience  " 

The  countess  kissed  Gabrielle  airily  on  each  cheek 
and  welcomed  her  with  incoherent  effusion.  The  Frau 
Major  held  both  of  the  young  girl's  hands  in  a  signi 
ficant  pressure,  and  bending  her  handsome,  earnest 
face  toward  Gabrielle,  said  in  a  low  magnetic  voice :  — 

"  I  knew  your  dear  father,  years  ago.  You  remind 
me  of  him.  I  feel  a  very  tender  and  special  interest 
in  you." 

Gabrielle  was  charmed  with  the  voice,  which  seemed 
to  take  possession  of  her  with  its  tenacious,  caressing 
cadence.  "  Is  he  well  ?  "  continued  the  Frau  Major, 
with  her  peculiar  emphasis,  conveying,  beneath  the 
three  words  of  commonplace  inquiry,  an  impressive 
undertone  of  interest,  remembrance,  and  regard. 

Gabrielle  gave  her  a  bright,  grateful  glance. 

"  Papa  is  well,  thanks,"  she  said.  "  I  think  I  never 
heard  him  mention  you,"  she  added,  with  frank  sur 
prise  at  the  omission.  It  seemed  to  her  very  remark 
able  that  her  papa,  who  had  described  to  her  all  his 


62  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

old  friends,  had  not  mentioned  this  lovely  person  who 
seemed  to  know  him  so  well  and  retained  so  much 
affection  for  him. 

"  It  was  so  long  ago,"  returned  the  Frau  Major 
vaguely,  and  with  her  air  of  unfathomable  calm, — 
regarding  the  fascinated  young  eyes  opposite  her 
gently  and  solemnly,  and  she  might  have  added : 
"  And  no  wonder  he  has  forgotten  me,  since  the  whole 
acquaintance  consisted  in  a  stiff  bow  on  his  part  and 
a  smile  on  mine  when  somebody  presented  the  shy 
eighteen -year -old  boy  to  me,  more  than  twenty-five 
years  ago  in  a  crowded  drawing-room.  But  why  men 
tion  the  unedifying  episode  ?  Why  ever  recall  any 
thing  that  does  not  give  positive  pleasure  ?  The  one 
thing  of  which  the  human  heart  never  wearies  is  the 
honeyed  voice  of  approval." 

"  You  must  be  tired,"  began  the  countess.  "  No 
thing  fatigues  me  like  the  railway.  My  neuralgia  is 
always  worse,  travelling,  and  my  asthma  gives  me  no 
peace.  Does  travelling  give  you  neuralgia  ?  " 

"  It  seems  to  give  me  nothing  but  dust  and  dirt. 
But  this  is  my  first  long  journey,  and  I  know  nothing 
of  neuralgia  or  any  illness  —  at  least  from  my  own 
experience."  She  spoke  half -laughingly,  half -apolo 
getically,  but  with  a  very  direct  manner,  and  not  a 
trace  of  shyness. 

"  I  think  one  ought  to  know  pain,"  rejoined  the 
countess  with  her  sentimental  air,  "  at  least,  to  be  truly 
sympathetic.  I  am  a  great  sufferer." 

"  That  is  a  pity,"  Gabrielle  said  kindly,  but  with  in 
ward  wonder.  She  was  accustomed  to  listen  patiently 
to  the  complaints  of  bed-ridden  old  women  in  the  vil 
lage  whose  loquacity  in  regard  to  their  symptoms,  and 
huge  enjoyment  in  dilating  upon  their  diseased  organs, 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  63 

she  had  ascribed  to  want  of  breeding  and  paucity  of 
ideas.  An  invalid  of  sixty  odd  years  with  skin,  hair, 
and  teeth  in  an  enviable  condition,  sitting  erect  in  an 
elegant  landau,  and  wearing  a  juvenile  love  of  a  bonnet 
was  an  enigma  to  her. 

The  countess  drew  her  velvet  mantle  closer,  and 
remarked  with  a  frown,  as  if  resenting  a  personal  an 
noyance  :  "  It  is  so  raw  to-day.  I  am  so  sensitive," 
she  explained  to  Gabrielle.  "  I  am  obliged  to  spend 
many  winters  on  the  Riviera.  But  the  transition  is  the 
difficult  thing  in  that  case.  One  feels  it  so  keenly,  it 
really  undoes  all  the  benefit  one  has  received  from  the 
warmer  climate." 

The  Frau  Major  murmured  a  gentle  acquiescence. 

"  I  bask  in  sunshine,"  the  countess  explained,  fall 
ing  into  French.  "  I  am  a  sun-worshipper  —  a  poor 
foolish  Parsee."  She  smiled  with  pleasure  at  the  apt 
ness  of  her  language,  and  her  face  wore  its  most  agree 
able  expression.  Her  small  pretty  teeth  revealed 
themselves  amiably,  and  her  fluent  French  ran  on  in 
airy  flights. 

They  were  driving  up  one  of  the  principal  business 
streets  of  the  city.  Gabrielle's  keen  eyes,  accustomed 
to  watch  the  flight  of  birds,  caught  clear  glimpses  of 
palms,  and  anemones,  and  pictures,  and  jewels,  and 
silver-ware,  and  stuffs,  and  spring-gowns  in  the  shop- 
windows,  and  all  the  time  heard  with  a  certain  sur 
prise  the  dominant  voice  of  the  countess,  and  met  the 
reassuring,  comprehensive  gaze  of  the  Frau  Major. 

The  day  was  beautifu1  to  her  in  its  breezy  fresh 
ness.  Last  spring  on  just  such  a  day  she  and  her 
papa  had  gone  trouting.  How  pleasant  the  library 
had  been  at  night  after  their  tramp  in  the  wet  woods ! 
How  they  had  enjoyed  their  cozy  supper  and  how 


64  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

they  had  laughed  !  Could  anything  ever  be  as  pleas 
ant  again  ?  Would  Lucie  know  his  ways ;  when  to 
speak  and  when  to  be  silent  ?  How  could  her  papa 
feel  familiar  and  easy  with  Lucie,  when  she,  Gabrielle, 
did  not  ?  That  was  the  strange  thing.  One  evening- 
had  overbalanced  years  and  years  of  sweet  companion 
ship.  No,  that  was  untrue,  for  her  father's  last  em 
brace  was  infinitely  loving,  his  voice  was  warm  and 
moved,  his  eyes  wished  her  unspeakable  blessings. 
Still  he  would  be  happy  with  his  Lucie,  and  the  old 
life  was  gone.  This  was  the  new  life  beginning,  and 
suddenly  all  seemed  unreal  to  her, — the  shops,  the 
busy  street,  the  two  smiling  women,  even  she  herself. 
She  roused  herself.  "But  it  is  real,"  she  thought. 
"  It  has  begun." 

How  handsome  the  countess  was,  with  her  silvery 
hair  and  fine  skin.  How  curiously,  for  her  age  and 
size,  her  phrases  darted  about.  Those  butterfly  flights 
and  poises  seemed  odd  for  so  large  a  woman.  She 
was  not  in  the  least  like  an  old  lady,  and  her  mind 
rested  nowhere. 

They  drove  by  a  crowded  entrance  to  a  gallery 
where  a  celebrated  picture  was  on  exhibition. 

Gabrielle  read  the  announcement,  and  said  eagerly, 
"Ah,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  that." 

Upon  which  the  countess  attacked  the  painting  and 
its  admirers.  She  did  not  criticise.  She  massacred. 
She  seemed  to  wrathfully  cut  the  canvas  with  sharp 
shears  and  trample  on  the  fragments.  Her  easy 
mockery,  and  massive  disparagement,  and  the  techni 
cal  phrases  which  she  flung  one  after  another  at  the 
offending  landscape,  greatly  astonished  Gabrielle. 

"  But  he  is  a  great  artist,"  she  said  innocently. 

The  countess  stared. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  65 

"  And  he  has  worked  a  year  on  this  picture.  A 
whole  year  of  his  life,  —  an  artist's  life.  That  means 
something." 

"  It  means  money,  my  dear,  money,"  the  countess 
returned  with  a  little  derisive  laugh.  "  As  for  the 
praise,  the  critics  are  paid,  too.  Greedy,  grasping  set, 
all  of  them  !  " 

Gabrielle  looked  at  her  wonderingly. 

"Papa  and  I  read  the  critiques.  Could  I  have 
made  a  mistake  ?  Could  there  be  two  artists  of  that 
name  ?  But  now  I  must  not  fail  to  go  to  see  the  pic 
ture  at  once,"  she  announced  cheerfully. 

An  ominous  cloud  was  gathering  on  the  countess's 
face. 

"  There  is  a  charming  little  picture,"  began  the  Frau 
Major,  "  which  we  are  about  to  raffle  off  at  our  next 
bazaar.  The  countess  bought  it  out  of  pure  charity ; 
she  is  always  doing  kind  things,"  the  sincere  voice 
explained,  "  and  perhaps  you  would  undertake  it.  A 
stranger  always  succeeds  so  well,  and  you,"  with  her 
slight  impressive  lingering  accent,  "  would  succeed  in 
anything.  She  may  sell  the  tickets,  may  she  not? 
Would  it  not  be  a  good  introduction  ?  The  picture, 
presented  by  the  Countess  of  Kronfels'  benevolence, 
and  sold  by  the  Countess  of  Kronfels'  —  cousin,  —  or 
what  shall  we  call  our  dear  young  friend  ?  "  she  asked 
gently. 

"Well, — niece,"  returned  the  countess,  after  a 
pause,  in  which  she  measured  Gabrielle  from  head  to 
foot. 

"  We  are  eleventh  cousins,"  Gabrielle  said,  with  a 
quick  laugh,  "  at  least  papa  and  I  decided  that  we 
could  scarcely  reckon  the  relationship  closer  than  that." 

"  A  woman  of  my  age,"  remarked  the  countess,  with 


66  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

a  coquettish  smile,  which  invited  protest,  "might  be 
anybody's  aunt." 

"Why  yes,  —  of  course,"  assented  Gabrielle,  seri 
ously,  "  but  "  — 

A  sweet  and  satisfied  "  Then  it  is  all  arranged," 
evinced  the  Frau  Major's  illimitable  content.  "  The 
countess's  niece  will  sell  the  countess's  picture.  It  is 
a  gem,  of  course,  as  it  is  her  own  selection.  A  girl 
is  waiting  on  the  shore  for  her  sailor  lover.  There 
is  a  breadth,  —  an  atmosphere  "  — 
-  "Gabrielle  should  wear  white, — thick  white,"  in 
terrupted  the  countess. 

"  Thick  white,  by  all  means,"  assented  the  Frau 
Major,  placidly. 

Gabrielle  saw  herself  summarily  arrayed  in  a  gown 
not  of  her  own  choice,  raffling  off  a  Sailor's  Bride 
at  a  fashionable  bazaar  and  surrounded  by  a  crowd  of 
strangers.  Her  personality  seemed  to  have  no  im 
portance  except  as  it  fitted  in  the  mosaic  of  other 
people's  plans.  She  was  about  to  say  flatly  that  she 
had  no  thick  white  gown,  no  experience  in  raffling, 
and  would  rather  not  assume  the  responsibility  of 
the  Sailor's  Bride,  when  the  Frau  Major  looked  at 
her  earnestly. 

"  You  are  going  to  do  our  poor  dear  countess  a  world 
of  good.  Youth  is  so  comforting  —  and  when  one 
has  griefs,  and  disappointments,"  -  —  she  murmured 
vaguely.  Turning  to  the  countess,  "  She  will  be  in 
deed  like  a  daughter  to  you." 

Her  tone  of  profound  conviction  carried  weight. 
Her  gentle  solemnity  was  fascinating  and  subjugating 
in  the  extreme  to  the  young  girl.  She  forgot  her 
momentary  impatience,  as  she  listened  to  the  low,  per 
suasive  voice. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  67 

"  What  does  it  matter,  after  all,  what  I  do  or  where 
I  go  ?  "  she  reflected.  "  Or,  at  least,  why  should  I  be 
unamiable  ?  Of  course  there  must  be  new  things  and 
ways  here.  Of  course  I  am  not  so  important  as  I  — 
used  to  be  at  Dohna.  The  Frau  Major  means  that 
the  countess  suffers  on  account  of  her  son.  How  self 
ish  I  have  been  not  to  speak  of  him." 

With  a  compassionate  glance,  she  ventured  to  say 
timidly :  — 

"  I  hope  poor  Count  Hugo  is  a  little  better.  We 
heard  about  it  last  winter.  We  were  so  sorry,"  she  fal 
tered.  It  was  not  easy  to  approach  so  pitiful  a  grief. 

"  It  has  been  a  terrible  affliction,  and  wearing  — 
very  wearing,"  sighed  the  countess.  "I  shall  never 
forget  how  I  felt  the  evening  they  brought  him  home. 
I  went  from  one  fit  of  hysterics  into  another.  Her 
majesty  sent  at  once  to  inquire.  We  had  every  mark 
of  sympathy  and  attention."  The  young  girl's  honest 
eyes  stared  at  her  with  unmistakable,  indignant  re 
proach. 

"  He  was  so  brave,  so  distinguished,  so  admired," 
the  Frau  Major  began.  "I  have  always  been  so 
peculiarly  fond  of  Hugo,  for  his  own  sake  as  well  as 
his  mother's.  He  has  a  very  remarkable  character." 

"  But  no  resignation.  If  I  could  induce  him  to 
cultivate  resignation.  I  spoke  with  him  about  it  to 
day.  I  urged  him  to  consider  it,"  the  countess  said 
in  an  aggrieved  tone. 

"  He  is  so  noble  ;  so  clever.  He  will  surely  be  all 
that  you  desire,  in  time,"  the  Frau  Major  assured  her, 
soothingly,  with  a  private  suspicion  that  the  flash  in 
Gabrielle's  eyes  boded  no  good. 

"  Hugo  has  much  to  learn,"  the  countess  returned, 
loftily. 


68  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Who  could  be  resigned !  "  began  Gabrielle,  before 
the  safe  conductor  could  avert  the  youthful  lightnings. 
"  And  a  man  like  Count  Kronf els  —  papa  said  he  was 
so  spirited.  If  one  were  born  a  cripple  I  could  under 
stand,  though  it  seems  more  natural  for  a  cripple  to 
be  wicked  and  rebellious.  There  is  one  in  the  village. 
He  is  hump-backed.  He  is  an  angel  of  goodness,  but 
I  always  thought  if  he  were  a  thief  and  a  murderer, 
a  straight-backed  jury  ought  to  have  the  decency  to 
acquit  him.  Oh !  "  she  exclaimed,  with  an  overpower 
ing  remembrance  of  the  joy  of  gallops  over  the  breezy 
moors,  of  breathing  the  freshness  of  the  woods,  of  the 
sense  of  freedom  on  the  mountain,  with  only  skies 
above  one,  and  space  and  silence  around,  and  with 
an  intense  consciousness  of  her  own  love  of  action, 
motion,  living,  "  how  can  he  be  resigned  —  how  can 
he?" 

Even  the  Frau  Major  could  not  invariably  predict 
how  her  uncertain  friend  would  meet  unwelcome  turns 
in  a  conversation.  The  wise  woman  now  preserved 
her  inscrutable  repose  of  manner,  meanwhile  anxiously 
watching  the  countess,  and  reflecting  :  "Is  the  girl  a 
fool,  to  quarrel  with  her  bread  and  butter  ?  If  she 
were  prudent  she  could  command  a  brilliant  future. 
That  poor,  ill-natured  Hugo  has  more  than  enough 
for  himself,  and  who  knows,  indeed,  how  long  he  will 
last  ?  It  would  certainly  be  a  mercy  to  him  if  his 
sufferings  should  not  be  prolonged."  For  in  her  self- 
communings,  the  most  astute  of  her  sex  did  not  hesi 
tate  to  call  a  spade  a  spade. 

But  the  mercurial  countess,  with  her  airiest  shrug 
and  a  quizzical  smile,  replied  :  - 

"  How  you  will  entertain  me  with  your  village  ex 
periences,  my  dear  Gabrielle  !  They  will  be  quite 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  69 

idyllic  and  refreshing.  As  for  Hugo,  he  would  not 
be  even  grateful  for  your  plenary  indulgence.  He 
does  not  —  you  will  have  to  know  sooner  or  later  — 
extend  his  welcome  to  you,  I  regret  to  say.  He  does 
not  sympathize  with  my  delight  in  having  you  with 
me  —  the  boorish  boy !  " 

Gabrielle  flushed,  and  was  singularly  ill  at  ease. 
She  did  not  understand  why  Count  Hugo  should  feel 
unfriendly  to  her,  still  less  the  smiling  malice  on  the 
countess's  face. 

"  I  am  sorry  "  —  she  began,  "  I  did  not  know  "  — 
Then  her  characteristic  bright  look  of  good  sense  and 
good  humor  dispelling  all  uncertainty  and  regret,  — 
"  After  all,"  she  said  smiling,  "  it  is  his  matter.  I 
don't  blame  him.  If  I  were  he,  I  should  hate  every 
body.  Particularly  strangers." 

"  What  principles !  "  exclaimed  the  countess  lightly, 
adding,  with  a  didactic  air,  "  but  remember,  my  dear 
child,  every  back  is  fitted  to  its  burden.  He  doeth  all 
things  well.  It  is  a  heaven-sent  trial,  and  the  incon 
venience  it  causes  in  the  house  no  one  knows  except 
his  poor  mother.  Will  you  hear  that  ugly  pug  bark  ? 
How  Mousey  would  despise  him !  Mousey  is  a  gentle 
man." 

Gabrielle's  condition  of  mind  was  bewilderment 
rather  than  antagonism  or  censure.  "  Everything  is 
so  new,"  she  thought.  "  I  was  excited  and  wrong  at 
home.  I  am  excited  and  wrong  here.  I  must  be 
making  mistakes.  Nobody  can  be  quite  what  the 
countess  seems  to  be." 

"There  is  the  Countess  Fanny,"  the  Frau  Major 
said  cordially.  "  Pretty  woman,  and  so  clever  —  so 
like  her  papa." 

"  She  was  pretty,  you  mean ;  and  as  to  her  father, 


70  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

he  is  clever  in  a  certain  sense.  That  is,  lie  has  clever 
intervals.  But  you  can't  deny  he  has  just  stultified 
himself  completely  in  our  affairs  with  Russia."  She 
briefly  sketched  the  foreign  situation,  and  depicted  the 
minister's  errors  with  masterly  clearness. 

"  In  these  things  you  are  incomparable,"  her  friend 
remarked.  "  Women  are  usually  so  stupid  and  vague 
when  they  speak  of  political  matters,  and  110  man 
makes  a  complicated  question  so  clear  to  me  as  you." 

"  Oh,  I  always  liked  chess  and  politics,"  replied  the 
countess  simply,  "and  then  one  does  not  marry  a 
diplomate  for  nothing." 

Gabrielle  was  now  more  than  ever  convinced  of  her 
own  injustice.  The  countess's  manner  was  sensible 
and  sincere,  her  smile  young  and  kind,  her  little  white 
teeth  gleamed  engagingly,  and  the  western  sunshine 
fell  on  her  silvery  hair.  Gabrielle's  spirits  rose. 

"  How  lovely  it  is  here ! "  she  said.  They  were 
approaching  the  villa,  and  the  largeness  of  the  view 
surprised  her.  "It  is  so  high  and  free  !  " 

"It  is,  indeed,  a  beautiful  situation,"  agreed  the 
Frau  Major's  low  lingering  tones.  "  We  all  envy  the 
countess  her  ideal  view." 

"  View  !  "  repeated  the  countess,  with  an  exasper 
ated  air.  "  What  is  a  view  when  those  people  straggle 
up  the  hill  every  day  and  intrude  themselves  upon 
it  —  stout  fathers,  and  dowdy  mothers,  and  knock- 
kneed  babies  ?  And  they  all  stand  before  my  gates 
and  stare ! " 

The  Frau  Major's  glance  conveyed  true  sympathy, 
as  she  said,  with  a  low  laugh,  "  Poor  things,  how  can 
they  help  it?  It  is  so  pretty." 

"  The  place  was  always  too  far  from  town  to  suit 
me,"  continued  the  countess,  irritably.  "And  now 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  71 

that  it  has  become  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry's  chosen 
promenade,  and  this  incessant  noise  of  building  is 
going  on  directly  under  my  ears,  it  is  too  near,  I  as 
sure  you.  Pound,  pound  pound  —  click,  click,  click. 
So  it  goes  all  day  long.  And  the  clank  of  the  chains 
when  they  lift  those  great  stone  blocks  !  —  they  seem 
to  be  pulling  at  my  nerves.  And  if  you  have  ever 
had  my  kind  of  neuralgia  —  not  the  ordinary  kind, 
you  know,  but  something  quite  different  —  seated  in 
the  finer  nerves ;  Doctor  Pressigny  explained  it  to 
me,  but  the  doctors  here  don't  know  anything  about 
it ;  there  is  one  nerve,  in  particular,  that  goes  from 
your  brain  to  your  heels,  and  "  — 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Gabrielle.  The  carriage  was 
turning  slowly  into  the  Kronfels  gates.  In  an  instant 
she  had  flung  open  the  door,  and  was  hurrying  to 
wards  a  scene  of  dire  confusion,  from  which  infantile 
wails  were  vigorously  ascending,  while  from  the  scaf 
folding  above,  the  workmen  looked  down  and  laughed 
unfeelingly  at  the  catastrophe.  If  Gabrielle  had  per 
formed  some  dangerous  feat  on  the  high  trapeze,  the 
countess  would  have  been  scarcely  more  astonished, 
but  there  seemed  to  be  nothing  to  do  but  to  let  the 
carriage  wait,  and  to  watch  the  young  girl's  eccen 
tricities. 

For  some  moments  Gabrielle,  coming  up  the  hill  in 
the  perfectly  appointed  equipage,  had  been  watching 
a  less  perfectly  appointed  one  coming  down.  There 
was  a  fat  baby-boy  in  the  shaky  little  cart,  while  tied 
inextricably  to  it  was  another  child  scarcely  bigger 
than  her  charge  and  officiating  as  nursery-maid,  as  is 
the  imperative  fashion  in  families  where  a  baby  a  year 
is  no  novelty,  and  mamma  takes  in  washing. 

What  could  be  more  fascinating  than  the  building 


72  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

of  a  house?  What  more  natural  than  to  approach 
what  one  likes?  With  serene  disregard  of  loose 
bricks,  stones,  bits  of  wood,  and  inequalities  of  the 
way,  the  shaky  little  cart  crossed  the  street,  dumped 
down  into  the  gutter,  jerked  cheerfully  up  again,  and 
established  itself  as  nearly  as  possible  beneath  a  great 
quivering  stone  block,  going  slowly  up  and  accom 
panied  by  the  sailor-like  cries  of  men  and  the  creak 
ing,  clanking  chain.  Gabrielle  had  been  speculating 
afar-off  upon  this  pigmy  cavalcade,  and  as  the  countess 
discoursed  volubly  upon  her  peculiar  high-born  ail 
ment,  the  young  girl  was  heartily  wishing  that  poor 
people  were  not  obliged  to  send  one  baby  out  into  the 
world  to  take  care  of  another,  and  reflecting  that  if 
the  ugly  great  stone  should  fall,  which  of  course  it 
would  not,  those  two  atoms  would  be  crushed  out  of 
existence,  when  she  saw  Fate  in  the  shape  of  a  little 
yellow  dog  attack  them  from  another  direction. 

Open-mouthed  with  delight,  they  clapped  their 
hands  at  the  beautiful,  clanking  chain;  with  heads 
thrown  back,  they  watched  the  ponderous  thing  sus 
pended  in  mid-air  above  them.  Through  a  hole  in  the 
hedge,  inclosing  the  villa  garden,  a  tiny  flaxen  dog, 
with  a  paroxysm  of  angry  yelps,  appalling  to  infants 
unacquainted,  with  the  condition  of  his  teeth,  rushed 
straight  at  the  sturdy  but  insecure  legs  of  the  leader 
of  the  expedition.  She  screamed  and  jumped.  This 
the  dog  found  attractive,  and  darted  in  and  out  be 
tween  her  feet,  intent  upon  evil.  The  harnessed  child 
could  not  escape  without  her  train.  In  a  frantic 
effort  at  self-preservation  she  sprang  to  the  right,  the 
left  wheel  struck  a  stone,  and  over  went  cart  and  chil 
dren,  in  a  helpless  struggling  heap,  amid  all  the  sharp- 
edged  chaotic  fragments. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  73 

It  was  at  this  crisis  that  Gabrielle  flew  to  the 
rescue.  She  extricated  the  tangled  babies,  set  the 
roly-poly  protector  and  guide  on  her  feet,  straightened 
out  the  queer  little  mass  of  humanity  in  the  cart, 
quickly  ascertained  that  there  was  no  harm  done  be 
yond  some  insignificant  bruises,  pulled  the  wagon  out 
of  all  entanglements,  turned  the  children  homewards 
on  a  straight  road,  told  the  baby-girl  she  must  not  tip 
the  baby-boy  over  again  because  it  might  hurt  his 
back,  and  it  would  be  better  not  to  be  harnessed  like 
a  pony,  but  if  she  must  fall,  to  fall  alone ;  recognized 
the  absurdity  of  this  sage  advice  to  the  poor  little 
mite,  and  found  time  in  the  midst  of  her  ministrations 
to  seize  and  soundly  cuff  the  dog,  that,  stimulated  by 
his  conspicuous  success,  was  obviously  bent  on  fright 
ening  his  victims  into  convulsions. 

The  astonished  dog,  with  a  howl  of  remonstrance, 
started  indignantly  down  the  street,  as  Gabrielle,  with 
heightened  color,  hastened  smilingly  back  to  the  car 
riage. 

"  Why,  there  is  Mousey !  And  the  angel  is  without 
his  collar !  Mousey,  Mousey,  love,  come  to  your 
Mumsey ! "  But  the  black,  satanic  eyes  gave  her  a 
glance  of  scorn,  and  the  small,  yellow  object  trotted 
determinedly  past  the  carriage. 

"Follow  him !  Follow  him  instantly,  Leible,"  com 
manded  the  excited  countess.  The  portly  servant 
descended  from  the  box,  gloom  on  his  features  and 
wrath  in  his  heart.  He  was  so  large,  Mousey  was  so 
small !  And  to  follow  the  dog,  pattering  along  just 
beyond  reach,  down  through  busy,  crowded  streets,  to 
endure  the  ignominy  of  having  Mousey  turn  and  grin 
derisively  at  him,  then  frisk  on,  snapping  at  his  bet 
ters  and  barely  escaping  horse's  heels  and  carriage- 


74  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

wheels,  was  odious  to  him.  His  sense  of  dignity  suf 
fered  ;  he  lost  his  patience  with  his  breath ;  moreover, 
he  knew  well  that  if  the  idol  were  not  restored  safe 
and  sound  to  his  devotee,  Johami  Leible's  services 
would  no  longer  be  required  at  the  villa.  To-day 
Mousey  felt  unusually  insulted,  his  wind  seemed  in 
fair  condition,  and  vindictiveness  lent  him  speed. 
Leible  foresaw  that  the  chase  would  be  long  and  har 
rowing.  He  tried  to  look  unconscious  of  the  scam 
pering  little  fiend  in  front,  and  assumed  his  best  air 
of  respectable-family-servant  out  on  some  appropriate 
errand,  but  his  anxious  eyes  never  lost  sight  of  the 
elusive  quadruped. 

"  I  could  stand  it,"  he  thought,  stopping  to  take 
breath,  remove  his  hat,  and  wipe  his  forehead,  — 
"  I  could  stand  it  better  if  the  little  devil  would  n't 
look  round  and  laugh  !  " 

Gabrielle  watched  the  little  girl  tugging  bravely 
at  her  heavy  load,  but  looking  back  with  wistful  eyes 
at  the  place  of  delight  and  peril.  With  heightened 
color  and  the  amused  smile  she  had  given  the  children 
still  lingering,  she  glanced  up  at  the  house  as  she 
returned  to  the  carriage.  Some  of  the  men  were 
looking  down.  A  carver  had  turned  from  a  massive 
head  and  met  her  gaze.  He  wore  a  whitish-gray  flat 
paper  cap,  and  had  a  long,  curling  beard  like  the  pic 
tures  of  Jove,  she  noticed. 

"  Old  putty-face  seems  to  have  got  some  common- 
sense  to  go  out  driving  with  her  to-day,"  commented 
one  of  the  beings  at  whom  Adelheid,  Countess  of 
Kronfels,  never  looked  except  with  unseeing  eyes,  and 
a  conviction  that  their  plebeian  lime  and  bricks,  and 
wood  and  stone,  and  hammers  and  saws  and  chisels 
existed  purely  for  her  discomfort. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  75 

"  Oh,  what  an  excitement !  Oh,  my  poor  nerves !  " 
groaned  the  countess. 

"  They  are  not  hurt,"  Gabrielle  returned,  inno 
cently.  "Poor  little  dumplings,  they  have  n't  any  equi 
librium.  Of  course  they  tip  over.  It  is  such  a  pity 
that  there  is  nobody  to  take  care  of  poor  children." 

"Dirty  little  wretches!  What  business  had  they 
to  frighten  him  ?  " 

"Him!  Whom?  That  dog?  Why,  he  frightened 
them !  Did  you  not  see  ?  But  I  took  care  to  "  — 

"Dear  friend,"  and  the  potent  sweetness  of  the 
Frau  Major's  voice  fell  like  a  heavy  curtain  over 
indiscreet  revelations,  "do  take  some  sal  volatile  at 
once.  Do  try  to  be  calm.  Dear  little  Mousey  will 
come  to  no  harm.  Faithful  Leible  is  with  him." 

"Is  that  little  scrub  her  Mousey?"  Gabrielle  was 
about  to  ask,  but  again  the  suave  voice  interposed. 

"  Without  his  collar  or  his  bell !  "  the  countess  ex 
claimed.  "  At  the  mercy  of  everybody !  Sweet  little 
unprotected  lamb  !  Babette  shall  answer  for  this." 

A  couple  of  frightened  maids  stood  at  the  house- 
door. 

"  Babette,"  demanded  the  countess  in  what  the 
servants  called  her  "  awful  voice,"  "  what  does  this 
mean  ?  " 

"Indeed,  it  was  not  my  fault,"  pleaded  the  girl, 
"  Mousey  would  n't  look  at  his  collar,  and  he  took  off 
his  bell  himself.  He  was  in  such  a  terrible  temper  ! 
I  mean  he  was  missing  the  gracious  countess  so  hard," 
she  added  adroitly,  "  and  he  slipped  out  sly,  when  he 
heard  the  carriage  coming  a  long  way  off." 

"  The  dear  thing  !  "  exclaimed  the  countess.  "  You 
should  see  his  welcome,  when  I  have  been  driving 
and  he  has  preferred  to  remain  at  home.  Such  joy  ! 


76  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Such  rapture  !  All  the  way  down  the  stairs  he  leaps 
and  cries  in  a  kind  of  ecstasy !  It  is  really  pathetic." 

The  first  maid  dropped  her  eyes  that  she  might  not 
meet  the  glance  of  the  second  maid,  for  it  was  an 
open  secret  in  the  servants'  quarters  that  Babette 
pinched  and  squeezed  and  shook  Mousey  to  excite  him 
to  the  desired  degree  of  rapture,  as  she  hurried  down 
stairs  with  him  in  her  arms. 

"  I  do  not  understand  how  it  could  have  happened. 
I  am  so  distressed.  She  gave  me  palpitation  when 
she  jumped  from  the  carriage,  and  I  shall  not  have  a 
moment's  peace  until  my  sweet  pet  is  safe.  That 
stupid  Leible  has  no  attraction  for  him  whatever.  He 
will  go  far  beyond  his  strength.  She  did  not  startle 
him,  did  she  ?  He  is  so  sensitive  !  What  did  she 
do?  I  did  not  see  what  happened,"  she  said  irri 
tably. 

"  Let  us  talk  of  it  when  you  feel  stronger,  dear. 
Let  me  come  in  with  you  now,"  cooed  the  Frau  Major. 
"  You  are  so  weary  and  unnerved  !  And  our  dear 
young  friend  here  —  could  I  give  any  order,"  she 
murmured,  "  after  the  long  journey  "  — 

Gabrielle,  scarcely  beyond  the  threshold  of  the 
strange  house,  stood  as  silent  and  unnoticed  as  the 
marble  pillar  behind  her.  Her  lips  were  compressed, 
her  face  was  a  little  haughty,  and  the  want  of  wel 
come  made  her  heart  ache. 

"  Oh  dear,  yes,"  returned  the  countess  absently. 
"  Roschen  can  show  her  her  room,  and  bring  her 
some  tea  or  something.  I  must  go  and  lie  down,  or  I 
shall  faint." 

"  Dear  child,"  said  the  Frau  Major,  coming  forward 
as  the  countess  retired  and  pressing  Gabrielle' s  hands 
warmly  and  looking  pleadingly  into  her  eyes,  "the 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  77 

countess  took  such  pleasure  in  preparing  your  room 
—  as  if  for  a  dear  daughter.  Roschen  will  make  you 
quite  comfortable,  and  I  know  you  will  soon  feel  at 
home.  It  is  unfortunate,  this  excitement ;  it  makes 
her  so  ill  —  she  has  so  much  heart  —  and  the  little 
dog  is  like  a  child  to  her,  and  "  — 

"  Oh  thanks,  I  shall  do  very  well,"  Gabrielle  an 
swered  gratefully.  "  Please  do  not  be  troubled  about 
me.  You  are  very  good  ;  of  course  I  understand." 

"  I  must  go  to  her.  She  is  so  very  nervous.  She 
is  ill  with  anxiety.  I  am  sure  you  will  be  very  happy 
in  your  new  home,  though  the  beginning  is  a  little 
agitated,"  and  she  smiled  lovingly  and  held  the  young 
girl's  hands  again  in  her  warm,  comforting  pressure. 

The  countess  had  disappeared  without  another 
glance  at  her  young  guest.  The  longed-for  ideal,  over 
which  she  had  wept  but  a  few  hours  previous,  was  for 
gotten,  and  her  whole  being  was  concentrated  upon 
that  little  yellow  animal  pattering  onward,  ever  on 
ward,  down  toward  the  wicked  city,  with  the  luckless 
Leible  swearing  and  perspiring  in  pursuit. 


CHAPTER  V. 

GABRIELLE,  having  been  treated  as  thin  air,  was 
relieved  to  find  herself  beyond  the  reach  of  the  dog 
agitation,  in  an  attractive  corner-room  with  long 
windows  opening  upon  small,  semicircular  balconies, 
which  commanded  the  garden,  the  city  in  the  valley, 
and  hiUs  far  and  near.  She  stood  motionless  after 
the  maid  closed  the  door,  scarcely  knew  whether  to 
yield  to  tears  or  laughter,  compromised  with  a  long 
sigh,  threw  open  a  casement,  and  stepped  out  on  a 
balcony.  The  shadows  of  early  twilight  were  steal 
ing  fast  over  the  valley.  She  looked  thoughtfully  on 
the  new  landscape  which  for  an  indefinite  time  was 
to  be  a  part  of  her  life,  and  saw  simultaneously  the 
home-scenes  —  grove,  field,  and  stream  ;  the  poplar- 
marked  white  country  road ;  and  the  flat  village 
with  its  overhanging,  irregular  red  roofs.  The  law 
lessness  of  thought  led  her  to  dwell  more  upon  the 
absurdity  of  her  entrance,  than  to  reflect  seriously 
upon  her  future,  or  even  to  yield  herself  to  tender 
reminiscences  of  the  father  from  whom  she  had  but 
yesterday  parted.  The  soft-skinned,  hard-featured 
old  lady  with  the  coquettish  Paris  bonnet,  jumping 
from  German  to  French  and  back  again  with  appar 
ent  unconsciousness,  smiling  winningly  one  instant, 
glancing  about  with  shifting,  uneasy  eyes  the  next, 
uttering  sense  and  nonsense  in  one  breath,  who  had 
not  thus  far  had  a  good  word  to  say  for  a  fellow- 
mortal,  and  who  was  madly  infatuated  with  an  ex 
tremely  ugly  and  plebeian  dog,  seemed  to  the  young 
girl  an  astounding  and  incomprehensible  figure. 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  79 

"  She  is  old,"  she  reflected,  drawing  off  her  gloves. 
"  I  must  not  judge.  I  always  jump  at  conclusions. 
I  have  lost  my  bearings.  To-morrow,  perhaps,  it  will 
all  seem  quite  different."  Yet,  endeavor  as  she  would 
to  be  charitable,  she  felt  guiltily  confident  that  the 
remembrance  of  Mousey's  irate  expression,  as  he  trot 
ted  off,  and  of  the  countess's  tragic  and  wrathful  fore 
bodings  would  always  have  power  to  rouse  her  irrever 
ent  mirth. 

The  maid  presently  returned  with  some  sandwiches 
and  wine  proffered  by  the  Frau  Major's  hospitality. 

As  Gabrielle  came  from  the  balcony,  the  girl  has 
tened  to  close  the  casement. 

"  The  draught,"  she  said. 

"  I  like  it,"  Gabrielle  answered  carelessly. 

"The  countess  thinks  it  is  sure  death,"  Koschen 
announced,  with  a  giggle. 

Gabrielle  had  been  reared  in  blessed  ignorance  of 
the  fatal  animosity  lurking  in  draughts  and  neighbor's 
opinions  ;  those  two  powerful  factors  in  the  education 
of  girls. 

"  The  countess  is  neither  young  nor  strong,"  she 
said  gravely  and  reopened  the  casement. 

44  If  you  please,"  began  the  maid,  "  the  Frau  Major 
thinks  it  might  be  pleasanter  for  the  gracious  fraulein 
to  have  a  cosy  little  dinner  up  here  instead  of  dining 
alone  down-stairs.  The  countess  is  in  such  a  state  of 
nerves,  that  dinner  's  no  object  to  her.  She  's  going 
to  have  her  hysterics  if  Mousey  does  n't  come  back 
soon,  and  the  Frau  Major  thought  the  gracious  frau 
lein  would  feel  lonely  in  the  dining-room." 

"  She  is  very  kind,"  Gabrielle  returned  thought 
fully.  She  had  had  a  glimpse,  as  she  passed  through 
the  hall,  of  a  room  dark  with  much  carved  oak,  of  a 


80  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

row  of  tall  painted  chair-backs,  stained  glass,  and  a 
general  aspect  of  dusky  solemnity,  like  a  Gothic  choir. 
"  It  would  be  rather  dreadful  down  there  all  alone," 
she  thought. 

"  And  any  way  there  is  n't  going  to  be  any  dinner," 
Roschen  communicated  further,  "for  the  butler  is  chas 
ing  the  dog,  and  they  've  countermanded  the  cook's 
orders,  and  the  countess  vows  she  never  will  eat  again 
until  Mousey  comes  back,  and  Babette  has  put  her  into 
her  wrapper,  and  the  Frau  Major  is  giving  her  sal  vol 
atile  and  trying  to  cheer  her,  and  I  am  to  bring  up 
the  gracious  fraulein's  dinner  at  seven." 

"  Then  I  simply  have  no  choice.  It 's  a  species  of 
genteel  solitary  confinement,"  Gabrielle  perceived,  not 
without  indignation.  Where  was  the  loving  welcome 
promised  ?  .  Apparently  only  in  the  countess's  fluent 
and  affectionate  letters.  Gabrielle  considered  the  wis 
dom  of  instant  flight.  What  if  she  should  steal  out 
in  the  twilight  and  order  somebody  to  take  her  and 
her  trunk  to  the  station  ?  But  no  !  That  would  be 
an  ignominious  step,  simply  because  a  poor  old  lady 
was  unhappy  about  her  dog. 

"  And  I  am  to  wish  the  gracious  fraulein  good-night 
and  pleasant  dreams  in  her  new  home." 

"  From  the  countess  ?  "  Gabrielle  asked,  cheerily 
confident  that  this  message  must  have  come  from  her 
hostess. 

"  No,  the  Frau  Major,"  Roschen  answered,  with  her 
giggle. 

"  Then  thank  the  Frau  Major  for  me,"  Gabrielle 
said  gravely,  "  and  wish  both  ladies  good-night." 

"Oh,  I  rather  think  I'd  better  not.  Because," 
continued  the  maid,  in  response  to  Gabrielle's  look  of 
inquiry,  "  because  I  'm  not  to  go  in  there  again,  unless 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  81 

I  'm  rung  for.  Sometimes  I  laugh,"  and  again  the 
vapid  involuntary  giggle  escaped. 

"  Oh,"  rejoined  Gabrielle,  endeavoring  not  to  look 
amused,  "  that  is  another  thing." 

"  Babette  told  me  to  keep  out.  And  I  'm  to  help 
the  gracious  fraulein  unpack.  And  I  'm  to  wait  on 
the  gracious  fraulein  when  I  'm  not  needed  elsewhere. 
But  sometimes  the  countess  needs  us  all.  And  then 
forty  would  n't  be  enough." 

"  I  don't  require  much  service,  thanks.  But  you 
may  help  me  this  evening,  when  they  send  up  my 
trunks." 

"  They  would  have  come  up  at  once  if  Leible 
was  n't  off  with  the  dog.  When  Mousey  has  a  tan 
trum,  the  whole  house  is  in  a  muddle." 

Gabrielle  sat  before  her  plate  of  sandwiches,  her 
hat  not  yet  removed.  She  thought  this  was  a  rather 
bold  and  loquacious  young  woman,  but  did  not  won 
der  at  the  mischief  in  her  eyes  when  she  alluded  to 
Mousey. 

The  maid  stood  near  the  table,  watching  her  in 
tently. 

"  What  shall  I  call  you?"  Gabrielle  asked  pleas 
antly. 

"  Eoschen.  I  am  the  baker's  Eoschen  from  Les- 
lach,"  the  girl  said  with  a  conscious  sir. 

"  Indeed,"  returned  the  young  baroness  civilly. 

Roschen's  bold  curious  stare  greedily  followed  every 
movement  of  the  stranger.  Gabrielle  glanced  at  her 
from  time  to  time,  somewhat  surprised  at  the  perti 
nacity  of  the  inspection. 

"  What  does  she  see  in  me?  "  She  observed  Ros- 
chen's  well-grown  form,  her  fresh  color,  her  heavy 
braids  neither  blonde  nor  brown,  her  clear  .brown 


82  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

eyes,  and  suddenly,  with  an  odd  feeling  of  amaze 
ment,  comprehended  the  cause  of  the  unblushing 
scrutiny. 

"  She  is  really  not  unlike  me,  and  she  perceives  it. 
We  have  about  the  same  height,  the  same  coloring, 
and  I  should  say  the  same  age." 

The  maid  did  perceive  the  resemblance,  and  was 
making  minute  comparisons,  all  in  her  own  favor. 
"  I  'm  a  good  deal  more  of  a  girl,"  she  told  herself 
proudly.  "  I  've  got  more  hair,  and  it 's  curlier.  I  've 
got  more  figure  and  redder  cheeks,  and  a  more  tak 
ing  way  with  me.  But  she  's  pretty,  —  oh,  yes,  she  's 
pretty,"  Roschen  admitted  magnanimously.  "  My 
hand  would  make  two  of  hers,"  she  thought  with  a 
pang  of  envy.  "  And  the  color  of  mine  is  n't  right. 
If  I  could  get  some  of  that  salve,  or  cream,  or  what 
ever  it  is  the  countess  uses"  —  and  her  meditations 
ran  ambitiously  on  in  pleasing  visions  of  a  beautified 
Roschen,  her  one  fault  —  coarse  hands  —  magically 
corrected  ;  envied  by  the  girls,  observed  of  all  men, 
smiled  at  approvingly  by  the  beautiful  young  officers 
who  rode  past  the  garden,  and  came  now  and  then  to 
pay  their  respects  to  the  countess  and  inquire  after 
Count  Hugo,  when  she  —  oh,  bliss !  —  sometimes  suc 
ceeded  in  opening  the  door  instead  of  old  Leible,  who 
happily  was  slow  in  his  motions  as  well  as  addicted  to 
napping  whenever  he  felt  that  the  countess's  frantic 
bell  was  not  imminent. 

Indulging  in  such  ecstatic  reveries,  her  large  rough 
hands  folded  across  her  white  apron,  her  gaze  pur 
sued  Gabrielle  as  she  rose,  went  to  the  window,  took 
off  her  jacket  and  hat,  opened  her  travelling-bag,  and 
found  her  portfolio  and  ink-stand. 

"  This    grows    irksome,"    the    baroness    admitted. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  83 

"  And  since  the  power  of  the  human  eye  belongs  to 
the  occult  sciences,  I  don't  know  what  will  happen  to 
me  if  she  continues.  I  suppose  a  fool  could  make  a 
wise  man  uneasy  if  he  looked  at  him  long  enough. 
Not  that  I  am  wise." 

"  You  may  go,  Koschen,"  she  said  kindly.  "  I  will 
rest  and  write  a  little." 

The  maid  longed  to  continue  her  complacent  study 
of  resemblances,  contrasts,  and  possibilities.  She  had 
always  known  that  she  was  a  beauty  and  not  like  the 
other  girls,  but  she  had  not  suspected  that  she  was 
like  a  baroness.  What  would  Bernhard,  with  his  dull 
notions,  say  to  that  ?  Well,  it  was  the  simple  truth. 
He  could  see  for  himself.  Seamstress  and  second 
maid  in  the  villa  —  well,  she  did  not  say  it  was  not  a 
good  position,  and  easy,  —  but  there  was  no  doubt 
about  it  she  could  look  higher ;  and  as  for  Bernhard 
—  well,  he  was  good-natured,  but  things  were  n't  set 
tled  for  ever  and  ever  yet,  and  nobody  could  tell 
what  might  happen. 

Koschen  was  honestly  glad,  too,  to  have  another 
young  thing  in  the  dull  house.  One  could  scarcely 
open  one's  lips  in  the  presence  of  the  countess,  she 
was  that  crushing.  And  as  for  Count  Hugo,  he  was 
like  a  man  buried  alive.  Nobody  could  catch  sight  of 
him,  except  now  and  then  a  pair  of  big  eyes,  —  like 
a  wild  animal  under  a  bush,  or  something.  Herr 
Lipps  would  not  let  the  king  so  much  as  bid  his  mas 
ter  good-morning,  if  he  wanted  to  be  let  alone,  which 
he  mostly  did. 

Therefore  Koschen  lit  the  gas,  adjusted  the  shades, 
and  reluctantly  withdrew,  resolving  to  beg  the  cook  to 
hurry  with  the  dinner,  that  she  might  return  legiti 
mately  to  the  rose-room,  and  see  what  kind  of  a  ward- 


84  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

robe  the  new  young  lady  had.  For  who  knew  when 
the  coast  would  be  so  clear  again,  with  the  countess 
conveniently  having  her  "  nerves,"  and  a  body  free 
from  reprimands  from  superior  officers,  like  Babette 
and  Leible  ? 

Gabrielle  began  to  write  rapidly.  Her  affection, 
her  talk  of  home,  her  journey,  her  impressions  of  the 
city,  all  this  wrote  itself  eagerly.  But  when  she 
found  herself  saying :  "  The  countess  is  a  very  hand 
some  old  lady.  I  am  not  dining  with  her  this  even 
ing,  because  she  is  distressed  about  her  little  dog  that 
has  run  away,"  although  the  facts  seemed  to  be  indis 
putable,  she  tore  off  the  half-sheet  with  a  doubtful 
smile,  thinking :  "  Why,  it  sounds  positively  mali 
cious,"  and  began  again  :  — 

"  The  countess  is  very  handsome,  and  a  little  uncer 
tain  in  her  ways,  perhaps.  She  is  not  quite  well  this 
evening,  having  lost  her  little  dog.  My  room  is  very 
pretty,  with  rose-colored  walls  and  hangings,  and  a 
lovely  view  of  the  city  and  over  the  hills.  The  Frau 
Major  is  a  most  winning  person,  with  a  fascinating 
voice.  She  seems  to  have  great  influence  in  this 
house." 

Again  she  hesitated.  Her  habit  of  unreserved  ex 
pression  of  her  ideas  and  feelings  to  her  father  was 
already  restrained  by  one  day's  new  influences. 

"  Why  do  I  write  trifling  things  like  a  village 
gossip  ?  "  she  asked  herself  reproachfully.  "  Why  do 
I  harp  upon  that  absurd  dog  ?  How  do  I  know  how 
much  or  how  little  influence  the  Frau  Major  has  in 
this  house  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head  and  destroyed  the  page.  Once 
more  she  wrote,  and  with  a  certain  desperation  :  — 

"  Do  not  expect  me  to  give  you  my  impressions, 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  85 

dearest  papa,  for  they  are  too  confused  and  worthless. 
I  am  in  a  completely  new  world,  and  must  learn  its 
ways.  All  that  I  do,  all  that  I  think,  you  shall  know 
sometime.  But  this  first  evening  I  feel  so  inexpe 
rienced  and  ignorant,  that  I  suspect  if  I  find  things 
queer,  it  is  the  fault  of  my  own  spectacles.  Be  happy 
about  me,  for  I  am  safe  and  cheerful,  except  when  I 
think  too  long  of  you !  And  I  am  interested  in  my 
coming  experiences.  I  suppose  one  must  have  some 
thing  which  may  be  called  experiences,  even  if  one 
lives  in  a  cave,  which  I  emphatically  do  not,  as  you 
would  agree  if  you  could  see  my  rose-walls  and  my 
balconies,  from  which  I  can  see  so  far  —  so  far  — 
almost  to  you  I  thought  just  now,  and  then  suddenly 
realized  that  I  was  gazing  longingly  due  south,  where 
you  are  not.  You  know,  dearest,  I  am  not  trying  to 
be  prudent  or  guarded.  I  could  not  think  of  such  a 
thing  !  I  really  do  not  know  what  to  tell  you,  because 
everything  is  quite  different  from  what  we  expected. 
The  countess  is  not  like  her  letter  —  no,  not  in  the 
least.  She  is  handsome,  —  her  eyes  are  uneasy,  — 
she  kissed  me  on  both  cheeks,  —  and  she  speaks  beau 
tiful  French.  Her  friend,  the  Frau  Major  von  Fun 
nel,  who  remembers  you  so  pleasantly,  has  won  my 
heart.  She  is  a  distinguished  looking  woman,  with  a 
wonderful  voice  that  holds  one  in  bondage.  I  cannot 
escape  from  it.  You  must  not  think  I  am  lonely  if  I 
speak  of  the  strangeness  here,  and  tell  you  that  I  am 
alone  this  evening.  For  since  my  arrival,  the  coun 
tess  has  been  very  nervous  and  excited  on  account  of 
her  little  dog  that  she  idolizes.  There,  papa,  I  have 
tried  to  keep  that  little  beast  out  of  this  letter,  but  he 
will  pop  up  unexpectedly,  so  I  might  as  well  introduce 
him  to  you.  Frankly,  you  would  not  look  at  him.  So 


86  THE  OPEN  DOOR. 

far  as  I  can  judge  from  an  extremely  brief  acquain 
tance,  he  is  an  unmitigated  cur  !  But  the  poor  coun 
tess  adores  him,  and  is  wild  with  grief  because  he  has 
run  away. 

"  Count  Hugo,  it  seems,  is  very  unhappy  and  lives 
a  most  secluded  life.  His  rooms  are  just  below  mine, 
the  maid  told  me.  As  I  write,  I  am  so  sorry  for  him, 
and  picture  him  in  his  great  loneliness.  You  and 
I  were  not  much  of  a  family,  papa,  but  what  there 
was  of  us  was  always  together.  Here,  the  countess 
is  at  one  end  of  the  house,  I  am  at  the  other,  and  the 
poor  count  is  in  his  corner  below.  Of  course  it  is 
merely  an  accident  that  I  am  to  dine  alone  to-night, 
and  my  constant  inclination  to  talk  about  it  —  as  if  it 
mattered  —  is  a  proof  that  I  am  puffed  up  with  an  idea 
of  my  own  importance.  Never  mind !  You  will  for 
give  me,  because  I  am  your  child,  and  it  was  you  that 
spoiled  me.  When  you  come  home  from  Japan  —  oh, 
papa,  it  sounds  so  long  !  it  sounds  so  far !  —  I  shall 
have  learned  humility,  and  other  graces  —  perhaps ! 

"  By  the  way,  the  young  woman  detailed  for  my  ser 
vice  looks  astonishingly  like  me,  except  she  's  hand 
some  and  imposing.  You  will  say  it  is  my  nonsense, 
but  indeed,  papa,  it  is  quite  true.  It  may  be  a  blow 
to  your  pride,  for  you  have  always  thought  too  well 
of  me,  but  I  am  calm  and  reconciled.  There  is  a  ver 
itable  resemblance,  not  perhaps  in  expression,  and  I 
venture  to  trust  not  in  manner,  but  we  are  somewhat 
the  same  kind  of  girl.  I  was  startled,  she  looked 
so  familiar.  '  Where  have  I  seen  you  ? '  I  vaguely 
wondered.  Then  suddenly  I  perceived  that  she  re 
minded  me  of  Gabrielle  Dohna.  We  stared  at  each 
other  like  the  snake  at  the  Zoological  Gardens  and 
his  predestined  fattened  rabbit.  That  is,  I  inwardly 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  87 

blamed  the  girl  for  staring;  but  I  must  have  been 
staring  too,  or  I  would  not  have  known  that  she 
stared.  I  sent  her  away,  for  which  my  conscience 
reproaches  me.  She  did  so  enjoy  gloating  over  me, 
it  was  cruel  to  disturb  her.  But  I  hear  her  now,  com 
ing  with  a  tray  and  glasses  that  rattle.  She  has 
knocked.  Papa,  she  cannot  keep  her  eyes  off  me ! 
While  she  sets  my  little  table  for  dinner  she  is  eying 
me,  and  longs  to  speak,  but  does  not  dare.  She  is 
a  very  communicative  maiden.  Papa,  if  I  were  the 
baker's  Eoschen,  and  she  were  your  Gabrielle,  I  ask 
you,  would  I  be  like  that  ?  For  instance,  would  I  be 
so  inquisitive  ?  Would  I  giggle  so  easily  ?  Suppose 
we  'd  been  changed  in  our  cradles.  Imagine  the  two 
of  us  unpacking  and  arranging  my  possessions  this 
evening.  Imagine  me  philosophizing  in  boundless 
fields.  It  is  really  an  extraordinary  experience.  It  is 
very  curious  to  meet  your  other  self.  Of  course  it 
makes  one  think.  Is  it  true  that  one  never  sees  one's 
real  self  in  the  glass  ? 

"  Roschen's  hair  curls  tight,  where  mine  only  tries 
to  wave.  My  color  is  rustic  enough,  but  hers  is  car 
nation.  She  is  the  freshest,  heartiest,  most  whole 
some-looking  girl,  full  of  life  and  strength  and  bloom, 
and  smiling  at  one  like  a  great  simple  child.  She 
is  a  thousand  times  better-looking  than  I,  yet  the  re 
semblance  is  there.  My  anatomy  may  be  a  trifle  finer. 
How  vanity  will  assert  itself !  Yet  I  am  compelled 
to  admit  that  her  flesh  is  handsomer  than  mine,  and 
in  revenge  I  take  refuge  in  my  bones.  Which  means 
that  my  4  attaches  '  are  smaller.  Am  I  chattering  too 
long  about  her?  Forgive  me.  She  is  such  a  sur 
prise. 

"  She  has  told  me  the  news  which  she  was  longing 


88  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

to  announce  ten  minutes  ago.  The  prodigal  clog  has 
returned  and  the  countess  is  weeping  over  him.  The 
Frau  Major  has  gone  home.  Nobody  expects  any 
thing  of  me  whatever.  Nobody  shall  be  disappointed. 
I  will  stay  here  and  eat  my  sequestered  dinner. 

"  A  knock.     Babette  brings  me  a  card  on  a  salver. 

"  '  God  bless  you,  my  sweet  child  !  Rest  well  in  your 
new  nest.  Pardon  my  seclusion  this  evening.  My 
agitation  was  inexpressible.  You  will  rejoice  with  me 
that  my  Precious  has  returned.  Good-night,  and 
sweetest  dreams.' 

"  There,  papa  !  What  more  can  the  heart  desire  ? 
Is  n't  it  all  that  is  kind  ?  Is  it  not  like  the  letters  she 
wrote  to  Dohna  ?  Only  don't  show  it  to  Lucie,  for 
she  will  laugh.  And  I  —  I  am  trying  not  to  !  Give 
my  love  to  Lucie  —  no,  not  my  love  —  give  her  my 
thoughts  ;  tell  her  I  think  of  her.  And  she  must 
make  you  happy,  very,  very  happy  ;  yet  not  so  happy 
that  you  will  forget  the  old  days,  and  your  child  who 
loves  you." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

HUGO  heard  the  carriage  drive  up  to  the  door, 
bringing  Gabrielle.  He  imagined  her  entering  the 
house  amid  kisses  and  embraces  and  voluble  gushes 
of  sentimentality.  His  face  grew  a  trifle  more  unami- 
able,  and  he  mechanically  read  and  re-read  the  same 
sentence  repeatedly.  Lipps,  evidently  bursting  with 
information,  wished  to  communicate  something  when 
he  brought  in  the  count's  dinner  ;  but  Hugo's  forbid 
ding  expression  nipped  his  revelations  in  the  bud. 

Lipps  had  discreetly  chosen  the  moment  of  the 
stranger's  arrival  to  store  away  a  package  of  Hugo's 
superfluous  effects  in  the  tower-room,  which  lofty  post 
of  observation  commanded  the  garden,  the  drive,  the 
houses  building,  and  a  good  portion  of  the  street. 

Lipps  had  been  seriously  opposed  to  Gabrielle's  ad 
vent.  To  the  best  of  his  ability,  he  had  worn  upon 
his  pink,  full-moon  countenance  the  cold  and  distant 
expression  which  he  had  observed  upon  his  master's 
pale  features.  Not  a  word  in  regard  to  the  young 
stranger  had  passed  the  count's  lips  in  his  servant's 
presence,  therefore  he  too  was  sternly  silent  in  the 
servants'  dining-room. 

Why  the  count  looked  so  gloomy  about  her,  Lipps 
was  at  a  loss  to  imagine.  It  was  enough  for  him  that 
proud  reserve  was  indicated  as  the  attitude  of  "  our 
wing,"  as  Lipps  called  Count  Hugo's  rooms,  and  the 
man's  efforts  to  be  impressive  wherever  he  moved  that 
day  were  at  least  admirably  conscientious. 


90  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Having  deposited  his  convenient  package  in  the 
store-room,  he  took  his  place  at  the  window  and 
watched  the  carriage  approach,  preparing  to  extend 
to  the  new-comer  the  same  unflinching  antagonism 
which  he  cherished  for  the  countess.  His  hatred  may 
not  have  been  sufficiently  intense  for  a  tragic  villain, 
—  happily  great  hate  is  even  rarer  than  great  love,  — 
but  it  was  the  strongest  emotion  of  the  kind  that  his 
honest  soul  could  produce,  and  such  as  it  was  he  gave 
it  lavishly.  But  when  he  saw  the  new  young  lady 
spring  out  of  the  carriage  as  quick  as  a  flash,  pick 
up  and  straighten  down  those  unfortunate  convoluted 
babies,  and  cuff  Mousey  vigorously,  not  once,  nor 
twice,  but  three  times,  he  gave  his  simple  allegiance 
then  and  forever  to  Gabrielle  von  Dohna,  and  in  the 
security  of  his  lofty  ambush,  relieved  his  feelings  in  a 
series  of  hearty  slaps  of  his  person,  and  lively  gyra 
tions,  sufficient  to  compensate  for  a  month's  aristo 
cratic  repression,  downstairs.  To  be  sure,  he  rea 
soned,  those  bricks  and  timbers  may  have  concealed 
the  deed  from  the  countess,  for  the  young  lady  was 
kneeling  —  kneeling  quite  unconcerned  in  all  that 
rubbish;  still  to  cuff  Mousey  by  daylight,  in  the 
face  and  eyes  of  the  countess  and  the  universe,  was 
a  mighty  plucky  performance.  It  seemed  to  him 
indeed  nothing  less  than  heroism.  Unpoetically  and 
with  queer  grins  of  reminiscence  he  told  himself,  in 
substance:  " Mon  ame  a  son  secret,  ma  me  a  son 
mysfere"  and  all  the  more  he  honored  the  daring 
young  spirit  that  dispensed  with  secrets  and  myste 
ries,  and  cuffed  openly  with  splendid  promptness.  "  I 
must  tell  Count  Hugo  just  how  she  did  it.  I  must 
show  him  how  the  pretty  lady  set  up  those  young 
things  on  their  legs  and  hit  out  at  the  little  beast." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  91 

But  in  the  presence  of  the  pale,  silent,  outstretched 
man,  Lipps  found  no  chance  to  speak. 

The  countess  had  many  theories  with  regard  to  ser 
vants  and  the  best  methods  of  treating  them. 

"  I  am  never  familiar  with  them,"  she  would  often 
say.  "  Familiarity  is  the  greatest  mistake.  They 
have  not  our  education,  they  have  not  our  souls. 
Kindness  and  indulgence,  so  far  as  possible,  but  no 
familiarity." 

Meanwhile  Babette  knew  every  weakness  of  her 
heart  as  every  secret  of  her  toilette,  and  in  certain 
relaxed,  hair-brushing  moments  not  only  listened  to 
peppered  stories  of  noble  friends,  family  jars,  and 
scandals,  but  proffered  in  return  her  own  equally 
spicy  narratives  of  more  humble,  yet  not  less  human 
circles. 

Hugo,  on  the  contrary,  was  sadly  destitute  of  dig 
nified  theories  as  to  his  demeanor  toward  social  in 
feriors,  and  had  he  been  asked  if  he  were  familiar 
with  Lipps  would  have  said  that  it  was  very  good  of 
Lipps  to  be  willing  to  be  familiar  with  him,  since  the 
man  was  not  compelled  to  submit  to  the  caprices  of 
a  cross-grained  invalid,  but  could  keep  a  beer-shop,  or 
be  a  street-car  conductor,  or  seek  independence  and 
peace  of  mind  in  some  other  congenial  vocation.  Yet 
all  the  same,  when  Count  Hugo  wore  a  certain  expres 
sion,  Lipps  dared  not  speak. 

To-night  he  stepped  softly  to  and  fro,  lighting 
lamps,  adjusting  shades,  always  casting  furtive  trou 
bled  glances  at  the  invalid.  Hugo  shivered  slightly. 
The  man  instantly  laid  another  rug  over  the  count's 
feet,  and  lighted  the  fire  on  the  hearth,  again  exam 
ining  the  windows  and  drawing  the  heavy  curtains 
closer.  It  seemed  to  him  that  the  hollow  circles 


92  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

under  the  count's  eyes  were  deeper  than  usual,  but 
perhaps  it  was  owing  to  the  fall  of  the  light,  which 
also  gave  a  transparent  effect  to  the  thin  hands  hold 
ing  a  Eevue  des  Deux  Mondes.  When  the  servant 

O 

brought  the  dinner-tray,  he  saw  that  the  magazine 
was  open  at  page  255.  He  stole  noiselessly  out.  Re 
turning  in  half  an  hour,  he  removed  the  tray,  which 
had  scarcely  been  touched,  and  as  he  passed  behind 
his  master  he  slyly  glanced  at  the  Revue.  Still 
p.  255.  The  man's  mouth  drooped  sorrowfully.  He 
came  back  and  stationed  himself  out  of  sight  and 
hearing  in  the  dressing-room,  where  he  sat  on  a  stool 
in  the  dark,  now  and  then  stifling  a  sigh ;  motion 
less,  watchful,  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  count's  face, 
stern,  white,  and  strongly  lighted  in  the  third  room 
beyond.  Lipps  listened  for  the  turning  of  the  leaf, 
but  knew  too  well  that  p.  255  still  urged  its  right 
to  be  read,  while  the  count  stared  at  his  ceiling. 

Three  hours  passed.  The  count  summoned  his 
servant. 

"  Lipps,"  he  said  irritably,  "  I  wish  you  would  go 
out  nights  and  enjoy  yourself.  What  business  have 
you  sulking  away  there  in  the  dark  ? " 

Lipps  smiled  like  an  ugly  seraph,  so  content 
was  he  to  hear  his  master's  voice,  and  without  a 
word  went  softly  about,  making  ready  for  the  night. 
He  put  the  count  to  bed  with  the  tenderness  of  a 
mother  to  a  suffering  child,  and  with  marvellous  dex 
terity. 

"  Let  the  lamp  burn,"  Hugo  said.  "  And  bring  me 
those  books.  I  am  not  sleepy  to-night." 

"  Nor  I  either,"  Lipps  returned  with  a  deprecating 
grin.  "  It 's  something  in  the  weather  I  suppose  ;  I 
shan't  sleep  three  winks  all  night,  and  so  if  the  count 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  93 

would  just  let  me  sit  there  comfortably  in  the  dressing- 
room  "  — 

"  It  would  be  a  kind  of  heavenly  enjoyment,  I  don't 
doubt,"  the  count  broke  in  hastily.  "  Lipps,  why  do 
you  insult  me  ?  Have  I  not  passed  beyond  the  need 
of  watchers  ?  And  if  I  should  happen  to  want  you  in 
the  night,  would  n't  my  bell  ring  in  your  ears  like  the 
last  trump  ?  Don't  be  an  idiot." 

The  man  silently  brought  the  lamp,  books,  a  vial 
and  a  spoon,  then  took  a  final  survey  of  the  room. 

"  Good-night,  Lipps,"  and  the  count  suddenly  put 
out  his  left  hand  toward  the  man.  Lipps  took  it 
as  if  he  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  it,  and  held 
it  a  moment  in  his  limp,  loose,  awkward  grasp,  his 
own  fingers  straight  and  unresponsive. 

"  Thanks  for  everything,"  Hugo  added,  with  a 
smile  which  illumined  his  drawn  face  —  old  and  hag 
gard  before  its  time  —  with  the  light  of  youth  and 
rare  sweetness,  "  and  Lipps,  you  may  tell  me  all  about 
it  another  day." 

Hugo  was  alone.  The  house  was  still.  From  the 
rooms  above  he  had  during  the  evening  occasionally 
heard  the  muffled  sound  of  voices,  the  opening  and 
closing  of  casements,  and  footsteps  011  the  uncarpeted 
floors.  The  wood-fire,  safely  screened,  crackled  with 
subdued  cheerfulness  in  his  front  room.  Now  and 
then  an  old  oak  armoire  gave  a  portentous  creak,  and 
added  its  tale  to  the  other  voices  of  the  night.  He 
looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  nearly  twelve.  His 
mother's  last  pet,  Mousey's  rival,  after  her  rapturous 
reception  was  no  doubt  sleeping  the  sleep  of  health 
and  virtue.  "Virtue,"  he  sneered.  So  far  as  he 
knew,  lies  could  sleep  as  well  as  truth.  Lies  could 
eat  and  smile  and  prosper,  and  live  in  peace  and 


94  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

enjoy  the  respect  of  all  mankind.  What  was  that  ? 
Footsteps?  Regular,  slow,  soft  footsteps,  from  one 
end  to  the  other  of  the  two  rooms  above  him ;  the 
footsteps  of  a  person  lost  in  thought.  What  then  had 
the  chief  favorite  at  his  mother's  court  to  consider, 
in  the  still  watches  of  the  night?  After  a  month 
he  could  well  imagine  her  involved  in  complications 
that  might  rob  her  repose.  After  three  months, 
be  she  a  wise  or  a  foolish  virgin,  Heaven  help  her ! 
But  the  night  of  her  triumphant  debut,  with  kisses 
and  joy-bells  and  incense  still  lingering  in  the  air, 
why  should  she  wander  up  and  down  like  a  rest 
less  spirit  ?  He  tried  to  read.  Involuntarily  he  fol 
lowed  that  soft,  measured  tread.  He  noted  when  she 
paused.  He  knew  where  she  turned.  The  mirror 
in  her  dressing-room  defined  the  northern  limit  of 
her  course.  The  window  toward  the  garden  bounded 
it  on  the  south.  "  If  mamma  had  given  her  the 
third  room,"  he  thought  impatiently  as  if  personally 
curbed,  "  she  would  have  longer  range." 

"  Now  what  is  the  trouble  ? "  he  asked  himself. 
"  A  happy  girl  does  not  walk  her  cage  all  night.  A 
happy  girl  goes  to  bed  and  to  sleep.  So  does  a  syco 
phant.  Is  she  laying  Machiavelian  plans  ?  Surely 
not.  It  is  too  soon.  And  if  she  is  sly  she  trusts 
her  slyness  for  inspiration.  Is  she  thinking  of  home  ? 
Why  did  she  leave  it,  if  she  loved  it  ?  What  plans 
but  unworthy  ones  —  at  least  purely  selfish  and 
worldly  —  could  lead  her  here?" 

He  pictured  her  vaguely,  —  her  head  drooping, 
her  hands  clasped,  walking  slowly  up  and  down  in 
the  stranger's  house.  Her  eyes  —  well  what  were 
they  to  him  ?  What  mattered  it  whether  they  were 
black  or  blue,  since  he  did  not  intend  to  see  them  ? 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  95 

But  would  she  walk  and  walk,  and  think  and 
think,  all  night  ?  A  happy  girl  would  not,  and  a 
stupid  girl  could  not.  In  spite  of  himself,  his  heart 
softened  toward  her.  Perhaps,  after  all,  she  had  not 
come  to  take  her  part  in  the  man-hunt.  She  might 
already  have  a  lover,  and  the  thought  of  him  was  ban 
ishing  sleep  from  her  young  eyelids.  Lovers  indeed ! 
When  would  a  man  learn  wisdom,  according  to  the 
gospel  of  Epictetus  !  What  had  a  cripple  for  life  to 
do  with  girls  and  lovers  ?  Was  he  not  in  enough  pain 
to-night,  and  weary  and  sad  enough,  without  any  devil- 
sent  speculations  on  this  lost  good,  to  crowd  his 
brain  with  mocking  images  and  reminiscences  ?  Did 
Mercedes  ever  pace  her  room  like  this  girl  overhead  ? 
No,  her  foot  would  not  be  so  measured,  so  regular. 
She  would  dash  up  and  down  wildly,  and  wear  her 
self  out,  and  weep  hot  passionate  tears,  of  which  she 
would  scrupulously  remove  every  trace  before  seeing 
the  French  embassador.  Still  the  footsteps,  —  with 
out  haste,  without  rest.  It  was  impossible  to  resist 
the  magnetic  influences  descending  from  the  thought 
ful  brain  and  overcharged  heart  of  the  stranger. 
Did  she  call  herself  unhappy  ?  If  she  but  knew  how 
blessed  she  was,  being  able  to  walk  up  and  down  011 
her  own  good  feet.  What  is  any  grief,  he  thought,  if 
you  have  the  use  of  your  legs  ? 

She  had  stopped  now.  She  had  opened  the  case 
ment.  She  was  looking  out  into  the  night.  He  saw, 
with  her,  the  star-lit  heavens,  the  dusky  valley,  the 
broad  hillside,  rearing  itself  directly  opposite  her 
windows.  With  her  he  followed  the  mysterious,  van 
ishing  distances.  He  knew  that  she  was  wondering 
why  here  and  there  a  light  was  burning.  He  knew 
that  she  was  questioning  whether  it  was  for  illness, 


96  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

for  birth,  for  death,  for  patient  study,  for  revelry,  for 
sorrow.  Earlier  in  the  evening,  hundreds  of  homes 
on  the  hillslope  sent  forth  across  the  valley  the  radi 
ance  of  their  cheerful  windows  in  such  a  multitude  of 
lights  that  one  could  scarce  tell  where  they  ceased  to 
twinkle  along  the  crown  of  the  hill  and  where  the 
stars  began.  But  it  was  midnight  now,  and  the  sober 
folk  were  mostly  asleep,  except  for  the  scattered 
problematic  fires  burning  on  good  or  evil  altars  far 
away. 

She  stood  long  on  the  balcony,  and  the  night  was 
cool.  A  queer  girl,  indeed!  Now  she  was  closing 
the  casement,  softly,  slowly.  Were  his  senses  less 
alert,  and  all  not  so  still,  he  would  not  have  heard  her. 
Would  she  go  to  rest  now?  No,  she  was  resuming 
her  gentle,  slow  walk.  His  whole  power  of  attention 
concentrated  itself  upon  that  lonely  figure  pacing 
the  floor  above  him.  He  saw  her  too,  quite  clearly, 
except  she  seemed  to  have  no  face.  The  shadowy 
features  eluded  him.  But  that  did  not  trouble  him ; 
it  was  like  the  hilltops  veiled  in  mist.  The  main 
thing  was  to  count  her  footsteps,  and  watch  her  turn 
to  the  right  by  the  window,  to  the  left  before  the  mir 
ror.  His  nerves  grew  tranquil,  his  thoughts  were  no 
longer  bitter.  Listening  to  the  soft  monotonous 
tread,  he  ceased  to  ask  himself  why  the  young  girl 
walked,  but  only  followed  her  mechanical  movement. 

It  seemed  to  him  of  vast  importance  to  count 
busily,  to  know  where  she  turned  and  make  no  error 
in  his  computations.  Listening,  counting,  presently 
he  ceased  to  listen  and  to  count,  and  fell  asleep  with 
out  his  drops.  . 


CHAPTER  VII. 

IN  the  villa -garden  were  sheltered  corners  and 
narrow  winding  paths,  barely  wide  enough  for  two 
abreast,  and  completely  beyond  range  of  the  windows, 
"  unless  somebody  was  mean  enough  to  be  spying 
from  the  tower,"  Roschen  admitted  on  her  first  recon 
noitring  expedition,  "  and  neither  the  countess  nor 
Count  Hugo  will  ever  climb  as  high  as  that  until  they 
go  to  heaven,  which  is  one  comfort,"  she  concluded 
cheerfully. 

The  countess  was  apt  to  complain  that  the  box-bor 
ders,  cedar  hedges,  and  close  shrubbery  of  the  old- 
fashioned  labyrinth  made  it  "  stuffy,"  and  she  fre 
quently  threatened  to  transform  it  into  a  plain  lawn. 

"When  I  have  time,  I  shall  design  something 
myself,"  she  would  often  say,  but  as  she  was  always 
nervously  hurried,  doing  nothing  at  all,  her  time  for 
designing  lawns  never  came,  and  the  objectionable 
mazes  remained  in  all  their  overgrown  and  neglected 
luxuriance,  the  beckoning  suggestive  alleys  became 
with  every  season  wilder  and  more  tangled,  and  the 
air,  laden  with  the  indefinable  mixed  odors  of  many 
sweet  and  pungent  shrubs,  more  heavily  aromatic. 

For  Roschen's  purposes  the  paths  were  wide  enough. 
Bernhard  Dietz  also  found  their  construction  faultless. 
At  a  tolerably  early  morning  hour,  there  was  a  brief 
but  eloquent  pause  in  the  work  on  the  houses,  and  a 
long  line  of  thirsty  masons  and  joiners,  in  enforced  sin 
gle  file,  —  their  path  down  the  side  of  the  hill  being 


98  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

steep,  rude  steps  between  the  vineyards,  —  descended 
to  a  beer-shop  for  the  customary  first  tankard.  Dietz, 
waiving  this  solace,  instead  of  following  the  blouses 
walked  off  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  sheltered  by 
the  disorder  of  his  surroundings  waited  by  a  certain 
thin  place  in  the  hedge  which  separated  the  sanctity 
of  the  villa-garden  from  the  profane  world  without. 

Within  the  great  house  a  supernatural  stillness  pre 
vailed.  Doors  and  windows  were  stealthily  opened, 
furniture  was  coaxingly  moved,  brooms  and  dusters 
were  employed  sotto  voce,  big  felt  shoes  bearing  anx 
ious  mortals  slid  about  on  the  polished  floors,  and  no 
one  dared  to  so  much  as  sneeze  with  freedom  until 
the  countess's  imperious  bell  announced  that  she  had 
deigned  to  open  her  eyes  once  more  upon  an  unworthy 
world. 

Roschen,  seizing  her  opportunity,  would  slip  out 
unobserved,  hurry  through  the  court,  take  a  clever  cir 
cuitous  route  round  the  conventionally  handsome  gar 
den,  and  disappear  in  the  unconventional  region  which 
Hugo  in  his  childhood  had  called  "  The  End  of  the 
World."  Here,  across  the  straggling  cedar  twigs, 
Bernhard  looked  in  her  eyes,  and  found  there  all  his 
happiness  and  all  his  hope ;  while  Roschen  looked  at 
him,  and  at  every  other  man  she  could  see.  The 
hedge  episode  took  place  every  morning.  To  Dietz 
it  was  like  a  benediction  on  his  day,  and  Roschen  met 
it  with  more  punctuality  than  she  employed  toward 
her  other  engagements.  She  liked  the  gaze  of  Bern- 
hard's  kind  eyes  well  enough,  and  then  —  there  were 
the  other  men,  and  they  too  had  eyes.  All  men  had 
eyes,  she  observed,  wherever  she  passed. 

Again,  toward  evening,  when  the  countess  sat  en 
throned  in  the  ecclesiastical  dining-room,  Mousey 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  99 

reposing  on  her  knee,  or  snapping  sportively  at  the 
solemn  butler's  heels ;  when  she  was  occupied  with 
the  chief  event  of  her  day,  and  the  only  thing  in  life, 
beside  Mousey,  of  perennial  interest  to  her,  Rbschen 
knew  that  no  one  would  think  of  her  for  an  hour  and 
a  half  at  least.  For  Babette  and  the  upstairs  people 
had  only  this  respite  the  whole  day  long,  and  were 
making  the  most  of  it,  while  the  cook  and  the  butler 
and  all  the  lower  vassals  were  at  the  high-water  mark 
of  trepidation  and  active  service.  So,  in  the  gloam 
ing,  the  lovers  returned  to  the  trysting-place,  and  this 
time  Bernhard  did  not  remain  upon  the  cold  world's 
side  of  the  hedge. 

The  singer  was  the  first  to  begin,  and  the  last  to 
leave  his  work.  Amid  the  innumerable  sounds  from 
the  growing  building,  his  beautiful  voice  was  always 
carolling  like  a  bird  of  good  omen  from  his  high  perch. 
It  was  a  rare  moment  when  he  was  silent.  Some 
times,  indeed,  he  stopped  singing  to  whistle,  and  then 
again,  he  would  stop  whistling  to  sing,  and  it  was 
hard  to  say  which  was  busiest  all  the  day,  his  smile, 
his  chisel,  or  his  song. 

An  obstinate  man  was  Bernhard  Dietz  when  once 
he  had  made  up  his  slow  and  gentle  mind,  and  there 
were  three  questions  which  he  had  decided  to  his  own 
satisfaction  for  all  time. 

Strangers  driving  past  him  at  his  work  had  often 
stopped  to  listen  to  his  high  pure  voice,  spoken  to 
gether  with  animation,  listened  again,  then  requested 
an  interview ;  and  the  tall,  brown  -  bearded  man,  in 
his  grayish-white  blouse  and  whitish-gray  paper  cap, 
would  answer  smilingly,  "  Well,  why  not  ? "  make  a 
civil  attempt  to  brush  away  with  his  handkerchief 
some  of  the  stone-dust  that  liberally  powdered  his 


100  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

face  and  hands  and  hair,  and  coming  down  in  his  de 
liberate  fashion,  humming  as  he  came,  would  join  the 
strangers  and  tranquilly  let  them  talk.  What  they 
had  to  say  he  had  heard,  indeed,  scores  of  times, 
and  he  merely  smiled  at  their  marvellous  tales,  and 
shrugged  his  shoulders  good-humoredly  at  the  mention 
of  fabulous  sums  which  he  could  earn  upon  the  stage. 

"  I  have  learned  my  trade,"  he  would  at  length 
reply  in  his  exasperatingly  beautiful  tenor  and  with 
the  simplicity  of  a  child,  "  and  years  and  trouble 
enough  it  has  cost  me,  and  now  I  am  going  to  stick  to 
it.  A  voice  ?  Every  man  's  got  a  voice,  if  he  will 
open  his  mouth  and  let  it  out.  Me  strutting  before 
the  footlights  in  velvet  breeches  ?  I  'm  obliged  to 
you,  sir.  I  could  never  learn  those  tricks,  if  I  died. 
No,  sir  ;  I  '11  carve  for  pay,  and  I  '11  sing  for  nothing. 
That  is  the  way  I  'm  built."  They  left  him  as  they 
found  him,  gentle,  imperturbable,  and  deaf  to  their 
eloquence.  Since  money  did  not  tempt  his  contented 
soul,  they  pronounced  him  stupid,  and  lamented  na 
ture's  inscrutable  irony  in  endowing  so  dull  and  gro 
velling  a  spirit  with  a  voice  of  rare  power  and  sweet 
ness,  and  with  the  stature  of  a  Siegfried. 

Meanwhile  Dietz  was  first  tenor  in  a  men's  chorus, 
that  shouted  lustily  and  quaffed  gallons  of  beer  every 
Saturday  night  in  the  inn  known  as  the  "Ox,"  in 
Leslach.  Often,  too,  Sunday  evening  Bernhard  paid 
his  forty  pfennings  for  a  seat  in  the  fifth  gallery  at 
the  opera.  As  he  was  born  to  whistle  and  sing  every 
thing  he  had  ever  heard,  and  as  he  had  heard  almost 
everything  worth  hearing,  his  carving  grew  to  the 
sound  of  choice  and  classic  melodies,  his  mammoth 
goddesses  wore  a  contented  air,  and  his  fruits  looked 
big  and  healthy  like  himself. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  101 

Another  of  Ms  obstinate  3<5nviciions'was'"TCliat  life 
is  worth  living.  His  friend ; .Peter ;  lost-  li® '  opportu 
nity  to  advance  the  contrary  opinion/0  Peter >wast  a 
beetle-browed  stone-mason  with  a  long,  pointed  nose. 
He  sang  bass  in  the  chorus  at  the  Ox.  The  two  had 
known  each  other  as  boys,  lived  in  the  same  street, 
often  returned  from  the  day's  work  together,  and  pre 
served  that  species  of  intimacy,  so  hard  to  define, 
which  never  was  and  never  could  be  friendship,  yet 
kindly  in  the  main,  and  through  force  of  habit  a  dis 
tinct  part  of  their  lives. 

While  those  handsome  stone  houses  were  building, 
Peter  proved  incontrovertibly  and  many  times,  that 
no  man  alive  had  any  right  to  be  rich  enough  to 
build  them.  He  preached  equality  and  abolition  of 
power,  and  division  of  property,  and  poured  forth 
various  advanced  theories  upon  Bernhard,  who,  for  the 
most  part  silent  and  with  smiling  eyes,  would  neither 
lose  his  temper  nor  be  enlightened. 

But  one  rainy  noon,  when  Roschen  had  declined  the 
rendezvous,  and  Peter  had  come  up  to  stare  wrath- 
fully  at  the  last  goddess's  ringlets,  and  to  declare  in 
her  very  presence  that  she  had  no  right  to  exist,  Bern- 
hard,  after  appeasing  her  for  the  spretce  injuria  for- 
mce  by  singing  a  charming  low  love-song  to  her  as 
he  chipped  at  her  Olympian  ear,  turned,  put  down 
his  chisel,  listened  a  moment  to  the  rain-drops  fall 
ing  hard  upon  the  canvas  stretched  above  him,  and 
then,  to  the  grumbler's  secret  surprise,  replied  to  his 
last  tirade. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  he  began  placidly.  "  Why  should  he 
not  build  it  ?  Why  should  n't  he  have  carving  on  it 
if  he  likes  ?  Where  would  you  and  I  be  to-day,  if  no 
one  was  rich  enough  to  build  houses,  Peter?" 


102  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"That  is  n't  the  question." 

.<tf  It.'£  tiiy,  question,,  and  my  question  is  as  good  as 
another  man's,"  Dietz*  said  with  his  slow,  gentle  into 
nation. 

"  It 's  the  general  question  of  freedom  and  justice," 
Peter  returned  grandly. 

Bernhard  looked  at  him  smilingly  and  whistled  be 
tween  his  teeth. 

"  In  America  it 's  different.  All  men  are  equal 
there.  America  is  the  land  of  liberty." 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  there  are  n't  any  rich  men  there 
who  build  houses  and  hire  stone-masons." 

"  It 's  the  principles,"  Peter  said  vaguely,  u  the 
principles  are  different." 

"Why  not?  But  they're  human  over  there? 
They  can't  fly  yet  ?  Why,  man,  it 's  all  one  thing. 
If  there  had  n't  been  any  Europe,  there  would  n't  be 
any  America.  There 's  good  and  bad  there  as  here. 
It 's  a  pretty  sensible  country,  so  far  as  I  know,  — 
but  I  Ve  no  wish  to  emigrate.  England  is  a  pretty 
sensible  country  too,"  he  added,  "but  it  suits  me 
here." 

"  Well,  it  does  n't  suit  me,  and  when  I  get  the 
chance  I  'm  going  to  America." 

"  I  don't  think  you  will  like  it  much  better." 

"  Perhaps  I  shall  not.  But  I  want  to  breathe  free 
air  once  in  my  life,"  Peter  replied  irascibly.  "If 
there  is  any  liberty,  I  want  some." 

"Liberty!"  repeated  Bernhard,  softly.  "No  man 
anywhere  has  more  than  the  liberty  of  doing  his 
duty." 

"  I  deny  the  rights  of  kings,"  Peter  exclaimed 
fiercely.  "  I  deny  the  privileges  of  birth  and  inher 
itance.  I  deny  "  — 


THE   OPEN   DOOR.  103 

"  Deny  —  for  all  of  me.  As  far  as  I  see,  somebody 
has  got  to  rule,  and  I  'd  rather  be  ruled  over  by  a 
decent  kind  of  king  who's  tried  to  learn  his  trade 
than  by  a  mob  of  hot-headed  fellows  like  you." 

"  The  voice  of  the  people  "  —  began  Peter. 

"Yes,  yes,  I  hear  a  great  deal  of  talk  about  that 
voice.  I  don't  think  much  of  it  myself,"  Bernhard 
rejoined  thoughtfully.  "  Sometimes  it  shouts  right 
and  sometimes  wrong.  Once  it  shouted  'Crucify 
him !  '  And  though  I  don't  pretend  to  know  much 
history,  it  seems  to  me  it  has  been  mostly  cruel  ever 
since  ;  as  cruel  as  —  kings." 

"You  talk  so  old-fashioned,  Dietz,"  Peter  said  con 
temptuously.  "You  ought  to  come  with  me  and  hear 
some  speeches." 

"  I  don't  think  I  'd  find  anything  new  in  them 
either.  Envy  and  murder  are  as  old  as  Cain  and 
Abel." 

"  You  can't  smile  away  the  oppression  and  injustice 
and  suffering,"  Peter  cried  angrily,  "and  hard  work 
and  poor  pay  and  no  chance  ! " 

"  I  'm  not  denying  there  is  great  wrong  in  the 
world,  and  great  unevenness  —  some  too  high  and 
some  too  low.  But  the  ones  that  are  down  and  tram 
pled  upon,  why  do  they  want  to  turn  things  topsy 
turvy  and  get  on  top  ?  To  help  ?  To  show  the  right 
way  of  doing  things  because  they  have  suffered  from 
the  wrong  ?  Not  a  bit  of  it !  To  trample  in  their 
turn.  And  that 's  why  I  say  sneaking  about  with 
dynamite  bombs  in  your  pocket  and  blowing  up 
kings  and  churches  and  bridges  and  women  and  little 
children  is  mighty  mean  business  in  the  first  place, 
and  in  the  second,  it  is  n't  going  to  change  things. 
The  heart  of  things  is  always  the  same."  Turning 


104  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

his  calm,  ruminating  gaze  from  Peter  toward  the  city 
and  the  encircling  heights,  "  There  will  always  be  differ 
ences,"  he  said,  with  a  slow,  sweeping  gesture,  "  there 
will  always  be  hills  and  valleys.  That 's  nature." 

"Nature  be  hanged,"  said  Peter,  turning  his  back 
on  the  wet,  gray  landscape,  and  relighting  his  pipe. 
"  A  man 's  well,  that 's  nature  ;  a  man  's  sick,  that 's 
nature ;  he 's  dead,  that 's  nature  too.  You  call  in  a 
doctor  to  cure  him  —  is  that  nature  ?  " 

Bernhard  nodded. 

"  Yes,  that 's  nature,"  he  admitted. 

"You  see,  nature  is  anything  you  like.  Well," 
Peter  went  on  with  a  grim  smile,  "  there  is  something 
we  mean  to  cure.  There  is  a  bad  kind  of  disease  that 
needs  doctoring.  We  are  going  to  doctor  it.  That 's 
all." 

Dietz  folded  his  arms,  leaned  against  the  window- 
frame,  and  continued  to  stare  far  down  the  valley, 
with  the  peculiar  mildness  of  expression  which  Peter 
found  more  irritating  than  the  most  quarrelsome  retort 
of  another  man. 

After  a  moment,  he  began  again,  abruptly  glaring 
at  the  offending  goddess  above  Dietz's  head,  — 

"Look  at  the  man  that's  building  these  houses. 
He  's  piling  up  his  millions.  He  does  n't  know  what 
to  do  with  his  money.  He  builds  houses  because  he 
can't  think  of  anything  else  to  do.  He  is  a  hard  man, 
a  close  man,  —  hard  as  flint.  Why  should  he  hoard, 
and  we  work  and  pinch?  Answer  me  that." 

"  See  here,  Peter,  I  earn  more  money  than  you, 
don't  I  ?  —  because  carving  pays  better  than  masonry. 
Is  that  any  reason  why  you  should  hate  me,  and  come 
in  the  night  and  smash  my  goddess  here,  and  steal  my 
wallet?  Well,  the  man  that's  building  this  house 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  105 

earns  more  money  than  either  of  us.  I  don't  care 
how.  He 's  got  it,  and  it 's  his." 

Peter  interrupted  impatiently,  but  Bernhard  went 
on  :  "  No,  Peter,  you  have  been  talking  at  me  for 
months.  Now  it 's  my  turn.  I  '11  tell  you  once  for 
all  how  I  look  at  these  things,  and  then  —  we  '11  have 
a  rest.  I  say  the  man  has  a  right  to  his  own.  But 
suppose  you  kill  him,  and  take  his  money  ?  And  sup 
pose  there  is  n't  any  law  to  punish  you  —  you  fellows 
want  to  abolish  the  law,  too,  with  the  other  things ; 
well,  you  would  have  the  money  instead  of  his  having 
it.  That  is  all  the  difference  I  see.  For  there  is  one 
thing  sure.  If  you  had  a  fortune,  you  would  not  talk 
so  loud  about  division  of  property.  Perhaps  there  is 
a  poor  man,"  Dietz  added,  meditatively,  "  who,  if  he 
should  inherit  a  fortune  this  minute,  would  distribute 
it  before  sundown.  When  I  see  him  do  it,  I  '11  be 
lieve  in  him." 

"  It  's  no  use  beating  about  the  bush.  No  man  has 
a  right  to  pile  up  money  and  crush  down  other  people. 
No  man  has  a  right  to  live  in  luxury,  and  let  people 
starve  around  him." 

"  It  does  seem  as  if  it  would  help  along  if  they  'd 
use  in  good  ways  what  they  can't  eat  or  enjoy  or  use 
sensibly  for  themselves  ;  but  it  is  a  hard  question, 
Peter,  and  better  men  than  you  and  I  are  working  at 
it.  All  I  have  to  say  is,  cursing  and  killing  will  never 
do  any  good;  but  perhaps  sometime  the  clever  heads 
will  think  out  a  way  to  help.  If  each  man  would  do 
his  own  work,  and  mind  his  own  business,  and  have  a 
friendly  thought  for  his  neighbor,  that  would  be  all 
the  revolution  the  world  needs,  and  I  take  it  we  'd  be 
vastly  astonished  at  the  change,"  Bernhard  added, 
with  a  pleasant  laugh. 


106  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  There 's  another  kind  of  change  coming,"  Peter 
muttered.  u  Put  your  ear  to  the  ground  and  you  can 
hear  it  gathering." 

"  Well,  it  won't  change  the  heart  of  things,"  Bern- 
hard  rejoined  tranquilly.  "And  it  won't  succeed, 
because  it  will  find  too  many  men  ready  to  fight  for 
peace." 

"  There  are  times  when  a  man  with  any  spirit  in  him 
must  rebel.  Let  cows  chew  their  cuds  and  be  con 
tent." 

"  Thank  you,  Peter,  thank  you  kindly,"  Dietz  said, 
with  aggravating  good-humor,  "  but  let  me  tell  you  it 
is  n't  always  the  spirit  in  a  man  that  makes  him  want 
to  fight,  instead  of  chewing  his  cud  like  an  honest 
cow?  —  sometimes  it 's  liver.  When  a  man's  liver  's 
wrong,  he  always  wants  to  meddle.  Look  at  yourself, 
Peter.  Look  at  your  long,  bilious,  yellow,  discon 
tented  nose  ;  you  'd  better  take  care,  or  you  '11  follow 
it  to  a  bad  end.  Sometimes  I  think  if  the  Lord 's 
made  any  mistake,  it 's  in  creating  too  much  liver." 

"  That 's  foolish  talk,"  Peter  replied,  with  a  reluc 
tant  smile. 

"  But  there  's  something  in  it,"  Bernhard  persisted. 
"  Look  at  Russia.  There  's  a  deal  of  liver  in  Russia." 

"  You  need  n't  look  so  far,"  retorted  the  other  dog 
gedly.  "Look  at  home.  Look  everywhere.  Look 
and  listen.  It 's  rising.  It 's  coming.  And  then  the 
brothers  of  the  poor  and  the  crushed  will  stand  shoul 
der  to  shoulder." 

"  Peter,"  Bernhard  began  gravely,  "  I  believe  you 
are  better  than  your  talk.  You  don't  mean  all  that 
you  say.  I  would  do  as  much  for  a  man  in  need  as 
any  of  your  '  brothers,'  and  you  know  it.  But  I  have 
no  faith  in  your  leagues  and  devil's  fermenting-pots. 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  107 

And  you  4  brothers '  don't  hang  together,  either. 
When  Johann  had  his  fever,  and  could  n't  pay  his 
rent,  or  his  life  insurance,  and  there  were  the  four 
young  ones,  and  a  baby  a  few  days  old,  what  did  I 
hear  you  say,  but  that  it  served  him  right  for  his  tip 
pling  ?  And  when  he  had  knocked  at  the  doors  of 
all  his  relatives  and  friends,  and  at  last  the  Lord 
above  put  it  into  the  heart  of  a  stranger,  —  a  rich 
stranger,  mind  you  !  —  to  lend  him  the  money,  were 
you  glad  ?  No,  Peter,  you  were  not.  You  said  that 
the  stranger  was  a  fool  and  would  never  see  a  kreutzer 
of  it  again,  but  since  he  had  it  to  give,  he  would  never 
miss  it;  so  the  giving  was  no  virtue,  and  trusting 
Johann  no  kindness ;  and  Johann  was  a  fool  to  be 
married  and  have  such  a  family  at  his  age,  —  and 
everybody  got  blame  and  curses  all  round." 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Dietz,  a  man's  hasty  words  have 
nothing  to  do  with  his  convictions." 

"  Well,  I  think  they  have,  and  more  than  all  the 
hashed-up  talk  he  gets  out  of  bloodthirsty  pam 
phlets." 

"  It 's  being  down-trodden  that  hardens  a  man  "  — 

u  You  're  not  starving,"  Bernhard  said  dryly.  "  I 
notice  that  all  you  fellows  that  are  smouldering  and 
ready  to  break  out  have  your  beer  pretty  regular. 
I  'd  forgive  a  starving  man  for  anything.  But  I  can't 
abide  you  others,  raving  about  Labor  and  Capital  as 
if  the  poor  were  all  saints  and  the  rich  all  devils, 
and  plotting  to  destroy,  and  all  the  time  hating  one 
another,  and  envious  and  grudging  and  quarrelsome, 
every  man's  hand  against  his  brother.  Is  that  the 
way  to  help  along  ?  Is  that  the  way  to  make  things 
happier  ?  Do  you  call  that  reason  ?  Do  you  call  that 
progress  ?  I  'm  obliged  to  you,  Peter,"  the  slow,  soft 


108  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

voice  concluded.  "  I  don't  want  any  liberty  thrust  at 
me  on  the  point  of  a  bayonet,  or  flung  at  me  in  dyna 
mite.  A  king  may  be  old-fashioned,  but  I  think  I  '11 
stick  to  him  a  little  longer." 

And  Bernhard's  socialistic  notions  progressed  not  a 
whit.  And  if  he  could  not  be  persuaded  to  grasp  his 
own  advantage  and  climb  a  musical  ladder  toward 
fame,  or  join  the  underground  brotherhood,  he  was  a 
thousand  times  more  tranquilly  stubborn,  more  smil 
ingly  blind  in  his  attachment  to  Roschen. 

His  parents  had  never  liked  the  girl,  his  friends  won 
dered  —  as  friends  are  apt  to  wonder  —  what  he  saw 
in  her,  and  everybody  knew  that  he  could  look  higher. 
But  since  his  boyhood,  when  he  used  to  watch  the 
girls  and  children  filling  their  pitchers  at  the  old  foun 
tain  in  the  middle  of  the  square  at  Leslach,  where  the 
closely  packed,  irregular  houses,  with  tumble-down 
roofs  and  steep  gables,  seemed  to  lean  forward  in  the 
twilight  and  listen  with  him  to  the  gossip  and  laugh 
ter  of  the  women,  Roschen  had  been  his  idol.  She 
had  a  peachy  look,  and  a  fresh  smile,  and  a  way  with 
her  which  he  could  not  resist.  Indeed,  he  had  never 
made  the  faintest  effort  to  resist  Roschen,  and  when 
he  once  took  the  loving  thought  of  any  man  or  woman 
into  the  stronghold  of  his  kind  and  loyal  heart,  he 
never  again  let  it  go. 

"  She  's  light-minded  and  spoiled,"  his  old  mother 
did  not  hesitate  to  tell  him  with  many  a  doleful  sigh. 
"  She  has  her  eye  on  the  men."  To  which  Bernhard 
would  respond  with  a  smile  of  security  and  infinite 
indulgence. 

He  considered  himself  rather  a  travelled  man,  for 
a  patron  strongly  interested  in  him  had  once  induced 
him  to  go  to  London,  where  in  spite  of  an  excellent 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  109 

position  and  high  pay  he  grew  silent  and  pale,  neither 
whistled  nor  sang,  and  one  day  announced  to  his  em 
ployer,  "  I  must  hurry  back." 

To  entreaties,  arguments,  and  substantial  promises, 
he  listened  with  an  absent  look  in  his  eyes,  a  queer, 
shy  smile,  and  the  one  soft,  obstinate  answer,  "  I  must 
hurry  back." 

For  a  deadly  home-sickness  was  consuming  him,  and 
London  was  but  a  poor,  wretched  place  without  Ros- 
chen.  If  he  stayed  he  could  earn  more  money  than  at 
home,  and  repay  his  father  for  the  extra  time  and 
training  he  had  allowed  him,  as  well  as  certain  fam 
ily  debts  which  he  had  assumed,  and  consequently 
be  sooner  free  to  marry.  This  consideration  tortured 
him  a  whole  day,  presenting  itself  in  the  light  of  a 
possible  duty.  But  before  sundown  his  doubts  were 
fled.  "  Money  's  not  the  best  thing  in  the  world, 
thank  God,"  he  reflected  cheerfully,  "  and  Roschen 
and  I  are  young  yet." 

And  he  did  "  hurry  back  "  to  earn  less,  sing  more, 
and  be  happy  in  his  own  way.  They  were  to  be  mar 
ried  in  a  year  now,  he  hoped,  and  when^  instead  of  a 
gloomy  London  Sunday  with  no  sweetheart  and  no 
music,  he  could  walk  out  arm-in-arm  with  Roschen, 
hear  music,  and  see  cheerful  faces  on  every  side,  — 
and  when  in  addition  to  so  much  bliss,  some  houses 
requiring  much  carved  ornamentation  engaged  him 
weeks  in  the  Heine  Strasse,  and  close  to  the  villa 
where  Roschen  was  employed,  and  he  could  catch  fre 
quent  passing  glimpses  of  her,  beside  having  a  blessed 
little  chat  over  the  hedge  now  and  then,  —  his  sunny 
spirit  was  less  than  ever  inclined  to  remodel  a  world 
so  full  of  gladness  and  hope. 

As  for  Roschen,  she  liked  to  walk  out  with  him 


110  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

when  he  wore  his  Sunday  suit,  in  which  he  looked 
rather  awkward  and  ill  at  ease ;  but  she  secretly  dis 
liked  the  long  white  blouse  and  paper-cap  of  week 
days,  because  they  reminded  her  of  the  paternal 
bakery.  That  a  man  shaped  stone  instead  of  dough 
was  but  a  small  advance  in  gentility,  provided  he 
must  still  wear  that  ugly  garment.  If  he  were  only 
well-dressed  and  smiling  behind  a  counter !  That 
would  be  finer  than  chipping  all  day  at  stones  like  a 
common  mason.  But  most  of  all  her  mind  was  always 
wandering  from  him  and  his  happy  plans  to  lay  its 
crude  admiration  at  the  booted  and  spurred  feet  of 
every  military  man  that  strode  by. 

"  Bernhard,  I  look  like  a  baroness,"  she  announced 
triumphantly,  the  evening  after  Gabrielle's  arrival. 
"I  do,  really !  I  look  like  the  new  young  lady." 
Her  thoughts  made  wild,  confused  flights  into  a  realm 
of  unknown  splendor.  One  of  the  factory  girls  had 
told  her  of  a  ballet-dancer  who  married  a  prince. 
Well !  After  that,  anything  might  happen. 

"  Child,  you  don't  know  how  you  look,"  the  man's 
tender  voice  answered  in  the  dusk.  "  You  can't  know. 
But  I  know,  and  there  is  something  I  am  going  to  do 
before  I  die.  I  am  going  to  make  a  figure  of  you.  I 
never  did  such  a  thing,  but  I  can  —  of  you!  I  feel 
that  I  can.  I  see  it  before  me  night  and  day.  And  I 
could  model  you  if  I  were  blind,  for  you  're  carved 
in  my  heart,  Roschen,  —  carved  in  my  heart."  His 
voice  faltered  for  love  of  her  and  for  the  daring  of 
his  thought ;  but  her  color  did  not  deepen,  her  bold 
gaze  never  drooped,  and  her  bright,  satisfied  young 
smile  had  nought  for  him  that  the  whole  world  might 
not  claim. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"  I  DID  N'T  even  ask  him  to  come  down.  In  fact,  I 
told  him  he  'd  better  stay  upstairs.  There 's  an  east 
wind  and  he  's  feeling  low." 

"  Oh,"  returned  Gabrielle  surprised  and  uncertain, 
"  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  I  understood  that  Count 
Hugo's  rooms  were  on  this  floor,  under  mine.  I  am 
sorry  he  feels  so  ill." 

"  Hugo  ?  "  said  the  mother,  with  a  stare.  After  a 
pause,  she  resumed  :  "I  happen  to  be  speaking  of  my 
poor  little  Mousey.  The  darling  is  so  sensitive,  and  I 
do  not  feel  quite  sure  whether  it  is  his  liver  or  his 
lungs.  I  gave  him  some  nux  in  the  night,  some  hy- 
oscyamus  early  this  morning,  and  just  now  a  good 
dose  of  aconite.  I  have  great  faith  in  aconite.  He 
looked  disgusted  when  I  offered  him  beef-tea,  but  I 
finally  prevailed  upon  him  to  sip  a  little  barley-water." 

It  was  Gabrielle's  first  lunch  in  the  cathedral-like 
dining-room,  where  the  countess  had  just  appeared 
looking  anxious  and  hurried.  Gabrielle  had  been  all 
the  morning  at  a  loss  to  know  what  was  expected  of 
her.  She  first  awaited  a  summons  from  the  countess 
and  none  came.  "  Perhaps  she  expects  me  to  come 
and  bid  her  good-morning,"  she  thought,  and  wan 
dered  along  the  corridor  toward  the  countess's  rooms, 
but  was  intercepted  by  Babette,  who  in  a  civil  but 
energetic  whisper  warned  her  off  those  precincts. 
Sympathetically  imitating  the  air  of  stealthy  misde 
meanor  worn  by  every  one  in  the  house  at  this  hour, 


112  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

she  crept  down  the  great  stairway  and  met  the  butler, 
who  was  astonished  but  not  ill-pleased  at  her  phe 
nomenal  appearance  at  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
Bewildered  as  he  felt,  his  genius  rose  to  the  occasion. 
Striding  before  her  in  his  big  felt  shoes,  with  the  con 
spicuous  effort  of  a  stage  villain,  turning  now  and 
then  and  beckoning  encouragingly,  he  opened  sev 
eral  doors  for  her  with  a  practiced  manipulation  of 
knobs  and  a  masterly  avoidance  of  creaks,  and  finally 
ushered  her  into  a  small  octagonal  library  with  a  blue 
dome-ceiling,  where  he  panted  as  if  they  had  just 
scaled  a  steep  and  perilous  path,  and  with  an  eloquent 
pantomime  —  respectful,  deprecating,  yet  insistent  — 
gave  her  to  understand  that  it  would  conduce  to  the 
general  weal  if  she  would  remain  there. 

"  Am  I  in  an  asylum  of  deaf-mutes  ?  "  thought  the 
young  girl,  as  she  was  left  alone,  amused,  yet  not 
without  a  certain  sense  of  wounded  dignity.  "  Last 
night  a  prisoner  in  the  southeast  upper  corner,  this 
morning  in  the  southwest  lower  corner.  Never  mind. 
This  is  but  the  beginning.  It  simply  can't  go  on  in 
this  manner.  The  little  library  is  charming,  and  per 
haps  I  'd  better  wait  quietly  here  until  somebody  sends 
for  me,  since  wherever  I  appear  I  seem  to  produce  as 
much  consternation  as  an  epidemic." 

Taking  a  book  from  the  shelves,  she  seated  herself 
at  a  window  and  read  hour  after  hour,  occasionally 
watching  the  builders  and  listening  always  to  Bern- 
hard  Dietz,  who  was  interpreting  Wagner  this  morn 
ing  —  now  low,  now  loud  ;  now  pausing  to  scrutinize 
his  work;  now  whistling  with  extraordinary  perfec 
tion  of  detail,  now  breaking  forth  in  a  great  gush  of 
song,  tossing  the  melody  back  and  forth  from  his 
whistling-voice  to  his  singing-voice,  and  as  uncon 
scious  of  effect  as  a  free  glad  bird. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  113 

"  A  man  does  good  who  sings  like  that,"  thought 
Gabrielle,  and  read  patiently  until  the  butler  sum 
moned  her  to  lunch. 

The  countess,  with  a  preoccupied  air,  kissed  her 
lightly  on  either  cheek.  "  I  hope  you  rested  well,  my 
dear,"  she  said,  and  without  waiting  for  Gabrielle's 
reply,  added  :  "  We  have  had  a  wretched  night.  Lei- 
ble,  the  cook  is  inexcusably  careless.  Tell  her  if  she 
serves  this  coarse  ragout  again,  I  shall  discharge  her. 
I  need  something  to  tempt  my  appetite  this  morning. 
Bring  me  some  pate  de  foie  gras." 

The  anxious  butler  moved  noiselessly  to  and  fro. 
The  countess  ate  hurriedly,  finding  fault  with,  yet  de 
voting  herself  assiduously  to  each  dish.  Gabrielle 
had  never  seen  any  one  take  lunch  so  seriously.  The 
atmosphere  was  so  heavy,  the  countess  so  dominant 
and  self-engrossed,  that  the  young  girl,  though  quite 
untrained  to  timidity,  experienced  a  certain  embarrass 
ment  and  doubt.  She  ventured  a  harmless  remark, 
which  the  countess  chose  to  ignore.  Gabrielle  col 
ored,  and  determined  to  be  silent  and  dignified.  But 
her  stiffness  produced  no  more  perceptible  impres 
sion  than  had  her  modest  attempt  at  entertainment. 
It  seemed  to  her  that  she  had  lived  a  century  or  two 
at  the  villa,  and  was  of  somewhat  less  consequence 
than  the  sideboard. 

At  length  the  countess  deigned  to  look  at  her  as  if 
she  were  a  visible  object,  and  suddenly  communicated 
the  fact  that  she  had  not  asked  "  him  "  to  come  down 
stairs,  and  alluded  to  "  his  "  lowness  of  mind  on  ac 
count  of  the  east  wind. 

When  the  identity  of  the  sufferer  had  been  fully 
established  in  Gabrielle's  mind,  she  succeeded  in  ex 
pressing  a  carelessly  benevolent  wish  for  the  dog's 


114  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

speedy  convalescence,  but  was  unable,  in  spite  of  her 
courteous  effort,  to  concentrate  her  attention  upon  his 
various  organs,  which  the  countess  with  animation  and 
unflinching  realism  now  laid  bare  for  her  inspection. 

"  And  Count  Hugo  ?  "  she  inquired,  seizing  a  for 
tuitous  moment,  when  the  countess  discontinued  her 
exposition,  in  order  to  extract  a  delectable  bit  of 
truffle  from  her  pate.  "  How  is  he  this  morning  ?  " 

u  Oh,"  said  the  countess,  "  Hugo  is  as  usual,  I  pre 
sume.  There  is  no  especial  change  from  day  to  day. 
That  could  hardly  be  expected.  I  have  not  seen  him 
yet.  I  make  it  a  rule  to  go  to  him  always  before 
lunch,"  she  added  with  a  fine  air  of  conscientiousness, 
"  but  I  was  detained  this  morning,  as  I  have  told  you." 
After  a  moment  she  added,  u  There  is  something  so 
pathetic  in  his  sufferings." 

"  Ah,  yes,"  murmured  Gabrielle  with  warmth. 

"A  little,  suffering,  dumb  thing,"  continued  the 
countess.  Gabrielle  gave  a  slight  start,  and  leaned 
back  in  her  chair.  "  So  innocent,  so  appealing,"  — 
a  pretty,  meditative  smile  played  over  the  countess's 
face.  "  Nothing  touches  me  like  the  thought  that 
he  cannot  tell  me  where  his  pain  is,  and  whether  it  is 
lungs  or  liver." 

She  excavated  another  truffle. 

"  I  am  sure  that  it  is  either  the  one  or  the  other," 
she  remarked  with  conviction. 

Gabrielle  had  lost  her  appetite.  She  watched  the 
countess's  large,  pale  hands  moving  softly  and  busily 
with  a  splendid  flashing  of  diamonds  and  sapphires, 
and  began  to  fancy  the  hands  themselves,  independent 
of  the  woman  behind  them,  were  greedy  and  insati 
able.  The  long  silences  and  the  gloom  of  the  room 
oppressed  her.  Eallying,  she  asked  brightly  :  — 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  115 

"  And  when  am  I  to  see  Count  Hugo  ?  " 

The  countess  put  down  her  knife  and  fork. 

"  This  is  the  third  time,"  she  said  with  a  mistrust 
ful,  jealous  expression  incomprehensible  to  Gabrielle, 
"  that  you  have  demanded  Hugo.  Pray  did  you  come 
here  to  be  my  son's  companion  or  mine  ?  " 

Not  the  words  so  much  as  the  positive  brutality  of 
accompanying  voice  and  look  made  Gabrielle  feel  as 
if  she  had  received  a  blow  in  the  face.  No  one  had 
ever  spoken  to  her  in  so  aggressive  and  rude  a  tone. 
She  fixed  her  eyes  upon  her  hostess  with  unequivocal 
hostility. 

The  countess  gave  a  short  nervous  laugh. 

"  Well,  you  need  n't  get  into  a  pet  about  it,  need 
you  ?  You  need  not  stare  so." 

Gabrielle  lowered  her  resentful  gaze  to  her  own 
plate,  and  said  nothing. 

After  a  long  uncomfortable  pause,  the  older  woman 
laughed  uneasily  again,  and  asked :  — 

"  Why  are  you  so  anxious  to  see  Hugo  ?  " 

"  I  am  so  very  sorry  for  him,"  returned  the  young 
oirl,  her  voice  at  first  low  and  uncertain.  Then  look- 

O 

ing  squarely  at  the  countess,  "  And  I  did  hope  to  be 
more  or  less  a  companion  to  him,"  she  added.  "  It 
was  my  strongest  reason  for  coming  here.  I  longed 
to  do  everything  in  my  power  for  him.  And  it  seems 
to  me  a  very  natural  wish  on  my  part,"  she  concluded 
with  composure  and  a  covert  challenge. 

"  He  was  a  great  lady-killer,  before  this  happened," 
the  countess  informed  her,  with  airy  irrelevance. 
"  Not  that  his  estimate  of  woman  was  ever  what  it 
should  have  been,  I  grieve  to  say,"  with  a  sigh  sug 
gestive  of  lofty  morality,  "  and  his  ideas  at  present 
are  still  worse,  —  distorted,"  —  she  cut  a  good  thick 


116  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

slice  of  pate  —  "  cynical  —  really  quite  shocking.  And 
I  am  afraid,  my  dear,  that  you  are  going  to  be  sadly 
disappointed,"  she  continued  with  a  malicious  mock 
ing  air,  "  for  you  could  not  expect  me  to  act  against 
his  wishes,  poor  boy  ;  and  I  can  scarcely  venture  to 
refer  to  you  again,  at  least  not  for  some  time,  and 
you  would  not  wonder,  if  you  had  seen  how  irritated 
he  was  yesterday,  when  I  simply  announced  that  you 
were  coming." 

"  Oh,  I  certainly  do  not  wish  to  see  him  against  his 
will,"  returned  Gabrielle  very  rapidly  and  trying  to 
smile.  "  I  shall  not  insist  upon  the  acquaintance. 
But  he  may  change  his  mind.  And  I  am  sorry  for 
him  all  the  same,"  she  exclaimed  with  generous 
warmth.  "  I  would  do  anything  in  the  world  for 
him." 

"  Well,  well,"  said  the  countess,  as  if  they  had 
been  discussing  nothing  more  serious  than  syllabub, 
"  I  must  not  sit  here  all  day.  My  little  man  will  be 
wondering  what  has  become  of  me,  and  at  three  I 
must  drive  to  the  Frau  Major's.  I  should  like  you  to 
come  too,  Gabrielle."  Rising,  she  smiled  pleasantly 
on  the  bewildered  girl,  and  patted  her  shoulder.  "  I 
wish  to  present  my  new  child  to  some  of  my  friends. 
You  must  call  me  Aunt  Adelheid.  Wear  a  pretty 
street  gown,  my  dear.  Whoever  ordered  your  ward 
robe  did  well.  Your  travelling  suit  was  perfect.  I 
did  not  suspect  you  of  so  much  elegance  in  your 
remote  wilds." 

"  Frau  von  Eahden  —  that  is,  Frau  von  Dohna  or 
dered  everything  for  me  in  Berlin.  I  deserve  no 
credit,"  Gabrielle  returned  coldly. 

"  Well,  make  yourself  charming.  You  will  have 
no  difficulty,  I  am  sure.  This  evening  we  will  go  to 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  117 

the  opera.  It  is  Carmen.  I  am  a  perfect  child  about 
Carmen.  You  know  it?" 

"  No,"  Gabrielle  said  gravely,  restive  under  the 
pressure  of  the  countess's  hand  on  her  arm,  as  they 
walked  through  the  hall,  and  wondering  at  the  win 
ning  smiles  and  artless  juvenile  manner  of  her  poly 
morphic  companion. 

"  So  much  the  more  pleasure  for  you.  As  for  me,  — 
none  feels  music  as  I  do.  I  am  most  exquisitely  sensi 
tive  to  it.  I  revel  in  it.  I  presume  you  have  n't  a  con 
ception  of  my  feelings  when  I  am  listening  to  music." 

"  No,"  said  Gabrielle  absently. 

The  butler  was  on  the  alert  to  see  in  which  direc 
tion  he  should  fling  open  the  doors. 

The  countess  stopped,  hesitated,  sighed,  and  an 
nounced  virtuously :  — 

"  I  will  go  in  a  few  moments  to  my  son.  He  will 
not  thank  me,  but  a  mother's  duty  is  sacred,  whatever 
be  the  son's  mood.  Gabrielle,  if  you  will  dress  and 
come  to  my  rooms  a  little  before  three,  I  will  see  if 
Mousey  feels  like  meeting  you.  He  is  sensitive  to  the 
approach  of  strangers,  and  ought  not  to  be  excited 
to-day.  But  I  will  ask  him  if  he  wishes  to  see  you, 
and  if  he  says  he  does  I  don't  think  you  will  do  him 
any  harm.  On  the  contrary  you  might  divert  him. 
Au  revoir,  my  dear  !  " 

Gabrielle  took  refuge  in  her  room,  sat  down,  and 
stared  blankly  at  her  rose-colored  wall.  It  was  petty 
to  feel  so  vexed  and  uncomfortable,  she  reflected. 
And  if  the  old  lady  was  impatient,  what  then  ?  But 
she  was  not  only  impatient.  She  was  startling  and 
unexpected  in  the  extreme.  It  was  difficult  to  follow 
her  volatile  springs,  while  her  disapproval  was  heavily 
aggressive  and  insultingly  suspicious,  and  her  direct 


118  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

blows  were  ponderous  as  a  blacksmith's  fist.  "  And 
the  trouble  is,  she  makes  me  conscious  of  myself,  and 
that  irritates  me.  I  have  never  been  accustomed  to 
be  peering  in  my  own  soul-windows  all  the  time,  and 
I  don't  like  it."  Yet  Gabrielle  was  ashamed  of  her 
condemning  spirit,  of  her  flushed  cheeks  and  quick 
ened  pulses,  and  felt  inclined  to  blame  herself  for 
some  involuntary  misconception.  "  No  doubt  she  is 
unhappy,"  she  reasoned,  "  and  nervous,  and  Count 
Hugo  is  a  trial  to  her."  But  she  grew  more  and  more 
confused  and  uncertain  of  her  own  opinions,  as  were 
most  people  who  attempted  to  study  the  Countess 
of  Kronfels'  mercurial  idiosyncrasies.  Resolving  to 
have  patience  in  any  event  and  wisdom  if  she  could 
attain  to  it,  she  tied  her  bonnet-strings  with  un 
wonted  gravity,  and  vaguely  commending  herself  to 
all  good  spirits,  went  slowly  toward  the  countess's 
rooms,  not  precisely  timid,  but  excited  and  with  an 
unpleasant  sense  of  having  lost  her  ancient  land 
marks. 

Her  thoughtfulness,  together  with  the  serious  effect 
of  her  best  bonnet,  gave  her  an  unusually  dignified 
expression  as  she  joined  the  countess.  That  lady 
sat  in  an  easy-chair  near  a  table,  upon  which  were 
magazines,  newspapers,  and  a  liqueur-stand.  She  was 
smoking  a  cigarette,  skimming  through  her  Figaro, 
and  conversing  at  intervals  with  the  indisposed  Mou 
sey,  who  was  stretched  upon  her  knee  in  a  languid 
and  loose  attitude,  his  paws  clasped  dejectedly  over 
his  countenance. 

He  sprang  down,  however,  and  greeted  the  stran 
ger's  entrance  with  a  volley  of  sharp  barks,  rush 
ing  furiously  at  and  around  her,  and  attacking  her 
skirts  and  feet  with  futile  snaps.  She  stood  quite  still 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  119 

during  this  paroxysm,  congratulating  herself  that  his 
teeth  were  few  and  blunt,  and  that  his  worst  bite  was 
but  a  pinch. 

"  There,  there,  my  pet,"  said  the  countess,  with  an 
indulgent  smile.  "  It  will  not  hurt  him,"  she  ex 
plained  to  Gabrielle  ;  "  on  the  contrary,  if  he  does  not 
become  over-excited,  this  animation  will  do  him  good. 
His  lethargy  has  alarmed  me.  Come,  Mousey,  my 
angel,  come  and  shake  hands.  Mumsey  must  go  now 
and  put  on  her  bonnet." 

But  Mousey,  who,  like  his  mistress,  could  usually 
be  relied  upon  for  the  unexpected,  looked  from  one  to 
the  other  with  malicious  scrutiny,  and  without  more 
circumstance,  turned  his  back  and  trotted  into  his  vel 
vet  house. 

"  Mousey  does  not  seem  to  like  me,"  Gabrielle  said 
demurely. 

"  He  does  not  know  you.  He  is  always  reserved 
with  strangers.  It  is  a  fine  trait,  I  think.  Only  shal 
low  natures  make  friends  easily.  But  you  will  soon 
see  that  he  is  no  ordinary  dog." 

"No,  I  already  think  him  a  most  extraordinary 
animal,"  Gabrielle  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to 
retort. 

A  long  low  growl  from  the  velvet  house  followed 
her  double-faced  remark. 

"  Do  you  hear  ?  He  knows  that  we  are  talking  of 
him.  Sometimes  he  does  not  like  it.  He  is  so  highly 
organized,  so  sensitive  to  every  word  and  look  and 
tone.  You  would  not  believe  that  I  was  entertaining 
him  with  French  politics  just  now." 

"  Oh !  "  ejaculated  Gabrielle  with  a  merry  laugh, 
which  she  tried  somewhat  ineffectually  to  repress,  per 
ceiving  that  the  countess  was  quite  serious. 


120  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

*"  You  do  not  believe  it  ?  Wait.  You  will  soon 
find  out  whether  my  blessed  Mousey  has  intellect  or 
what  stupid  people  call  instinct.  Your  gown  is  very 
well,  Gabrielle.  A  little  serious,  perhaps,  but  it  errs 
on  the  right  side.  You  must  not  be  forbidding,  my 
dear.  Society  does  not  admire  that  manner  in  youth. 
Don't  look  so  earnestly  at  people.  It  is  unusual.  It 
makes  one  uncomfortable.  You  were  so  tall  and  still 
and  grave  as  you  entered  the  room,  it  was  quite  appall 
ing.  A  girl  like  you  ought  to  be  sunny  and  expan 
sive.  Why,  when  I  was  your  age  I  had  —  wings  !  " 

"  Indeed,"  was  the  frigid  reply,  and  Gabrielle  felt 
that  her  wings  were  being  clipped  closer  every  instant. 

"  Amuse  yourself  a  few  moments.  My  bonnet  and 
gloves  are  self-adjusting.  I  leave  vanity  to  youth." 
She  rustled  into  her  dressing-room,  throwing  a  kiss  to 
Mousey,  whose  bright  eyes  were  visible,  gleaming  from 
his  own  portals. 

His  yellow  head  now  thrust  itself  across  his  thresh 
old.  He  surveyed  Gabrielle  with  unremitting  atten 
tion.  Presently  he  came  out  of  his  retreat  and  ad 
vanced  toward  her,  his  shrewd  gaze  fixed  upon  her 
face.  He  sniffed  her  gray  silk  folds,  reconnoitred 
the  resting  place  afforded  by  her  knees,  and  with  a 
trust  in  her  magnanimity  which  argued  well  for  his 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  sprang  up  and  took  pos 
session  of  her. 

Amused  at  the  comedy  he  had  played,  her  hand 
fell  naturally  upon  his  little  curled-up  back.  The  dog 
growled  and  turned  his  head  with  a  threatening  move 
ment. 

"  Oh,  come  now,  Mousey,"  she  began,  looking  in 
his  false  bright  eyes,  "  if  you  can't  bear  my  hand,  I 
can't  bear  you  on  my  knee.  If  it 's  a  liberty  on  my 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  121 

part,  it  is  a  greater  one  on  yours,  and  you  may  get 
down  as  soon  as  you  like,  sir  !  " 

Mousey  put  his  head  on  one  side,  cocked  his  left 
eye  wickedly  at  her,  and  weighed  her  words.  Mean 
while  her  hand  was  resting  quietly  upon  his  sacred 
person.  Concluding  that  she  meant  what  she  said, 
and  finding  himself  in  comfortable  quarters,  —  he  had 
a  special  predilection  for  reclining  upon  new  silk  of 
good  quality,  —  his  weariness  relaxed,  he  drooped  his 
head,  and  with  a  long  sigh  of  satisfaction,  went  to 
sleep. 

In  spite  of  the  self-adjusting  properties  of  the 
countess's  attire,  Babette  and  Roschen  were  minister 
ing  to  her  for  some  time,  with  hair-pins,  hand  mirrors, 
powder-puffs,  and  perfume  ;  but  invariably,  it  would 
appear  from  the  excitement  attending  her  toilet, 
they  proffered  the  article  undesired  at  the  moment, 
and  never  could  learn  to  anticipate  her  wish. 

"  The  little  love ! "  she  exclaimed  rapturously,  as 
she  rejoined  Gabrielle.  "  And  you  a  perfect  stranger. 
Is  not  that  sweet-tempered  ?  Angel-dog  !  " 

Gabrielle  smiled,  and  her  hand,  resting  on  the  little 
warm  body,  moved  innocently  up  to  his  head. 

But  no  sooner  did  the  napping  animal  perceive  the 
slight  pressure  between  his  ears,  than  he  sprang  at  her 
face  like  a  mad  creature,  with  a  succession  of  angry 
snaps. 

Gabrielle,  startled,  pushed  him  down,  and  rose. 
Had  Mousey  been  a  pack  of  dogs  he  could  scarcely 
have  attacked  the  enemy  at  more  points  at  once,  and 
uttered  a  greater  number  of  fiendish  yelps. 

"  But  you  ought  not  to  have  touched  his  head ! " 
shrieked  the  countess.  "  You  ought  not !  He  never 
allows  it." 


122  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

The  dog  was  beside  himself  with  rage. 

"  In  old  times  they  would  have  said  he  was  pos 
sessed  of  a  devil,"  Gabrielle  thought,  watching  him 
with  a  certain  fascination,  as  he  circled  round  her, 
seizing  her  wherever  he  could,  his  black  eyes  gleam 
ing  fiercely,  his  voice  raised  in  maniacal  expostula 
tion. 

"Calm  thyself,  my  angel,"  cried  the  countess  in 
French.  "  He  will  be  so  fatigued  after  this.  Oh, 
how  could  you  touch  his  head !  How  could  you  be  so 
unkind !  " 

She  stooped  and  seized  the  quivering  animal,  held 
him  to  her  cheek  and  fondled  him,  her  eyes  suffused 
with  tears. 

"  My  treasure  —  my  dove.  There  !  there  !  "  and 
Mousey,  exhausted  by  the  violence  of  his  outbreak, 
suffered  her  caresses.  Breathing  stertorously  and 
casting  an  evil  eye  at  Gabrielle,  he  was  redeposited  in 
his  velvet  house,  where  he  consented  to  swallow  six 
globules  of  aconite.  "  He  is  trembling  like  a  leaf. 
He  is  most  dangerously  excited,"  the  countess  said 
testily,  wiping  her  eyes  and  breathing  loud.  "  Why 
everybody  persists  in  touching  his  head  I  can't  im 
agine." 

"  But  I  did  not  know,"  protested  Gabrielle. 

"  You  have  driven  him  to  the  very  verge  of  brain 
fever." 

Gabrielle  had  not  found  being  the  object  of  the  in 
furiated  little  animal's  aggressions  a  pleasing  occupa 
tion,  and  felt  disinclined  to  fall  prostrate  before  the 
dog,  or  for  the  matter  of  that,  before  the  countess. 
The  whole  scene  seemed  ludicrous  to  her,  and  she  was 
determined  not  to  make  a  tragedy  of  it. 

"  But  what  should  one  touch,  if  not  a  dog's  head  ?  " 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  123 

she  replied  brightly.  "  Surely  not  his  tail  ?  Then 
Mousey  has  none,  to  speak  of." 

This  derogatory  remark  induced  a  glance  of  stern 
reproach  from  the  countess,  and  a  growl  of  protest 
from  the  velvet  house. 

"  I  have  always  believed,"  began  the  countess  sol 
emnly,  "  that  Mousey  was  once  badly  hurt  on  the 
head,  —  in  his  infancy,  perhaps,  —  and  that  he  re 
members  the  pain,  and  on  that  account  dreads  being 
touched  there." 

"Why,  that  sounds  very  reasonable,"  Gabrielle 
returned  cheerfully,  "  only  don't  you  think  he  could 
be  taught  to  be  a  little  less  demonstrative  ?  It  would 
really  have  thrown  some  women  into  hysterics,  you 
know  ;  and  then,  why  did  you  not  tell  me  ?  "  she  per 
sisted,  laughing  slightly,  and  looking  at  the  countess 
with  resolute  good  humor. 

"  Oh,  I  have  told  people  till  I  am  tired.  It  makes 
110  impression.  They  always  know  more  about  your 
own  dog  than  you  do.  They  smile  and  stroke  his 
head  in  spite  of  my  warning,  and  Mousey  invariably 
responds  with  an  attack  of  delirium,  poor  dear,  —  poor 
dear !  It  is  his  temperament,"  she  concluded  with 
fatalistic  helplessness. 

It  occurred  to  Gabrielle  that  the  excess  of  temper 
ament  might  have  been  lessened  by  a  judicious  modi 
cum  of  chastisement.  Still  smiling  she  inquired,  — 

"  Does  he  entertain  all  your  visitors  with  this  ani 
mated  scene  ?  " 

"  If  they  are  so  dull  as  to  touch  his  head,  yes,"  said 
the  countess  with  a  frown. 

"  What  a  general  favorite  he  must  be  !  "  returned 
Gabrielle  gayly. 

"  If  you  think  it  good  manners  to  ridicule  an  old 


124  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

woman  and  her  only  friend,  pray  continue,"  said  the 
countess,  white  with  wrath,  and  in  the  deep  and  sur 
prising  bass  which,  striking  one  suddenly,  had  the 
effect  of  a  mental  sledge-hammer. 

Gabrielle  felt,  indeed,  more  or  less  stunned,  and 
already  deplored  her  vivacity  ;  yet  an  instinct  of  self- 
preservation  induced  her  to  rise  and  front  the  foe, 
rather  than  be  at  once  and  forever  crushed  into  noth 
ingness. 

She  came  toward  the  countess,  who  stared  straight 
before  her,  without  a  glance  at  the  young  girl. 

"  She  is  very,  very  trying,"  thought  Gabrielle, 
watching  the  stony,  unpropitious  face,  and  the  chest 
laboring  for  breath,  "  but  she  is  more  than  sixty  years 
old  and  she  is  not  well;  she  is  very  uncomfortable,  or 
she  would  not  lean  back  and  breathe  like  that." 

"  Aunt  Adelheid,"  she  said  for  the  first  time,  and 
with  a  queer  little  cough,  as  if  the  words  choked  her, 
"  I  did  not  ridicule  you.  I  was  laughing  at  Mousey, 
for  he  is  very  funny.  Why  may  not  one  joke  about 
a  dog  ?  " 

No  answer.  After  a  long  pause,  Gabrielle  con 
tinued  with  less  spirit :  — 

"  I  am  sorry  if  I  have  annoyed  you." 

No  response. 

Gabrielle  gave  a  little  sigh. 

"  We  were  always  joking  about  everything  at 
home,"  she  said  pleadingly. 

The  countess  rose,  poured  a  glassful  of  cura£oa,  and 
drank  it  hastily. 

"  This  unpleasant  scene  has  shaken  my  nerves,"  she 
said  coldly,  without  a  glance  at  Gabrielle.  "  I  dislike 
scenes,  and  they  are  very  injurious  to  me.  Let  us  go, 
since  go  we  must." 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  125 

"  Why  need  we  go,  if  you  do  not  feel  well  enough?  " 
Gabrielle  suggested  conciliatingly. 

"  Perhaps  you  will  allow  me  to  arrange  my  time  and 
engagements  for  myself,"  returned  the  bass  voice,  fol 
lowed  by  a  caressing  treble,  which  murmured,  "  Adieu, 
sweetheart.  Rest  well  and  be  comforted." 

Gabrielle  silently  accompanied  the  heavy  rustling 
figure  through  the  corridor  and  down  the  stairway. 
The  butler  and  maids  knew  the  meaning  of  that  rigid 
white  face. 

"  She  's  been  rowing  it  with  the  young  lady,"  whis 
pered  Roschen,  hurrying  towards  the  outer  door  with 
wraps.  "  So  much  the  better  for  you  and  me." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  !  There  is  always  enough  row 
left  for  us,"  muttered  Babette,  advancing  the  next 
moment  to  the  coupe  with  extreme  deference,  bearing 
the  countess's  card-case,  visiting-book,  vinaigrette,  and 
lorgnon,  and  depositing  them  in  a  carriage-pocket,  as 
tenderly  as  if  they  were  precious  relics. 

The  countess  looked  large  and  forbidding.  Ga 
brielle  in  her  corner  tried  to  make  herself  as  small  as 
possible,  and  felt  like  a  culprit.  As  they  drove  out 
of  the  gates,  Peter  scowled,  thinking,  "  There  they  go, 
the  idlers,  who  have  nothing  to  do  but  enjoy  them 
selves  and  spend  money,  curse  them  !  "  While  Dietz, 
who  was  whistling  the  Minuet  from  Don  Giovanni, 
glanced  over  his  shoulder  and  caught  a  glimpse  of 
the  beautiful  young  lady,  —  who  was  like  his  Ros- 
chen,  only  different ;  and  the  thought  which  he  sent 
after  the  retreating  carriage  was  so  purely  kind,  it 
resembled  a  blessing  or  a  prayer. 

"Shall  I  speak?  ShaU  I  remain  silent?"  Ga 
brielle  asked  herself.  "It  is  easier  to  be  silent,  so 
perhaps  I  ought  to  say  something." 


126  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

"  How  cheerful  and  busy  the  workmen  sound,"  she 
began.  "  I  watched  them  a  long  time  this  morning. 
It  was  very  interesting.  I  think  I  have  always  taken 
a  house  quite  stupidly,  as  a  matter  of  course,  but  to 
day  I  began  to  respect  the  work  in  it,  —  the  patience 
and  skill." 

"  I  admire  the  refinement  of  your  tastes,"  remarked 
the  countess. 

"  But  don't  you  think  it  picturesque,  those  groups 
of  busy  men,  and  all  the  movement  and  color  ?  " 

"  I  think  it  a  horror  —  and  an  insolence  to  build  in 
one's  face  and  eyes." 

"  Some  of  them  have  strong,  interesting  heads," 
Gabrielle  continued. 

"  I  never  look  to  see  whether  such  people  have 
heads!" 

"  Have  you  not  noticed  that  handsome  stone-carver 
with  the  young  face  and  a  beard  like  a  patriarch  — 
and  the  beautiful  voice  ? "  Gabrielle  went  on,  en 
couraged  to  find  her  attempt  at  conversation,  if  not 
warmly  approved,  at  least  tolerated. 

"  Do  you  mean  the  man  that  bellows  from  morning 
till  night  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  never  heard  a  voice  like  his,"  Gabrielle 
exclaimed  with  enthusiasm,  "  so  strong,  so  glad  and 
sweet ! " 

"  You  have  never  heard  much,  Gabrielle,"  returned 
the  countess  freezingly,  "  but  of  course  if  you  can 
oppose  me,  you  will  not  lose  your  opportunity." 

The  young  girl  colored  indignantly,  shrank  into  her 
corner,  looked  persistently  out  of  the  window,  and 
maintained  complete  silence  until  they  reached  the 
Frau  Major's. 

That  exemplary  woman  sat  with  a  group  of  satellites 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  127 

in  her  pleasant  drawing-rooms.  Her  house  was  a 
popular  resort  of  gay  young  people.  One  was  toler 
ably  certain  to  meet  somebody,  or  hear  something 
there ;  and  if  by  chance  no  pretty  girl  drifted  in,  or 
no  lieutenant  bent  on  pleasure,  one  could  never  weary 
of  the  Frau  Major  herself,  whose  gracious  hospitality 
was  so  cordial,  whose  dainty  tea-cup  was  presented 
with  a  smile  of  concentrated  sweetness  born  for  "  you," 
whose  interest  in  one's  pursuits  was  an  important 
element  of  her  life,  whose  sympathy  with  one's  tastes 
was  closer  than  a  brother's ;  who,  in  short,  lived  and 
breathed  in  one's  happiness  and  success,  and  looked 
so  distinguished  and  handsome  withal,  and  spoke  in 
that  voice  peculiar  to  her  alone  of  all  mortal  women, 
and  to  certain  alluring  damsels  who  once  resided  upon 
the  island  of  Caprea. 

Several  people  were  gathered  about  her  and  her 
tea-tray :  an  old  colonel  who  enjoyed  young  chat 
ter,  some  quiet  maidens  who  had  patiently  appeared 
everywhere  for  years  and  were  a  little  tired  behind 
their  smiles,  and  two  women  whom  the  Frau  Major 
always  classified  as  "representative  people,"  that  is, 
persons  of  easy  means  and  conventional  deportment. 
Lorenz  von  Raven  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room 
with  a  cup  of  black  coffee  in  his  hand,  and  another 
lieutenant,  equally  rosy  and  contented,  was  providing 
the  Mayer  twins  with  very  thin  bread  and  butter. 
Those  special  pets  of  the  Frau  Major  were  dressed 
elaborately,  and  confusingly  alike,  since  had  so  much 
as  a  ribbon  been  different,  their  acquaintances  might 
have  hoped  to  distinguish  Fraulein  Emma  from  Friiu- 
lein  Berta.  They  talked  incessantly  and  said  little, 
scanned  the  horizon  eagerly,  adored  the  Frau  Major 
and  the  social  avenues  which  she  opened  before  them, 


128  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

were  as  inseparable  as  love-birds,  and  sincerely  at 
tached  to  each  other,  —  which  trait  the  Frau  Major 
accentuated  in  her  laudations,  but  which  Hugo  von 
Kronfels  had  once  ill-naturedly  denominated  "  self- 
love,"  since,  he  declared,  "  nature  in  a  frugal  mood 
had  divided  one  soul  between  two  beings." 

A  significant  lull  in  the  conversation  greeted  the 
entrance  of  the  countess  and  the  young  stranger.  The 
Frau  Major  went  forward  rapidly  and  met  them  al 
most  upon  the  threshold,  somewhat  after  the  man 
ner  of  the  fair  Elizabeth  in  Tannhiiuser,  when  beyond 
the  heads  of  ordinary  courtiers  she  spies  afar  some 
royal  dame,  and  advances  with  a  certain  sweet  pre 
cipitation  in  her  graciousness. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  Frau  Major  conveyed  her  dearest  countess  to 
a  large  arm-chair  in  the  centre  of  the  older  group,  and 
with  a  sweetly  protective  manner,  most  soothing  to 
Gabrielle's  wounded  sensibilities,  led  her  to  the  young 
people,  presenting  her  with  smiles  of  perfect  benevo 
lence  and  low  subjugating  tones. 

Von  Raven,  counting  himself  lucky  to  behold  a  new 
and  pretty  face,  hastened  to  offer  Gabrielle  the  cup  of 
tea  which  the  Frau  Major  prepared  for  her  with  ten 
der  solicitude,  and  von  Haller,  not  wishing  to  be  out 
stripped,  followed  with  sandwiches,  cakes,  and  wafers. 
The  young  girls,  after  inquiring  how  she  liked  Wyn- 
burg,  resumed  their  conversation,  discussing  in  a  high, 
rapid  way  topics  of  which  she  knew  nothing,  —  the 
general  tenor  of  their  remarks  relating  to  where  they 
had  been  and  where  they  were  going. 

"  Of  course  you  are  going  to  the  French  embassa- 
dor's  ball  ?  "  said  Fraulein  Emma  Mayer,  her  lively 
black  eyes  examining  every  detail  of  Gabrielle's  toi 
let.  "  Everybody  is  going.  I  am  going." 

"  Of  course,"  echoed  Fraulein  Berta.  "  I  am  going. 
Everybody  is  going." 

"  Certainly  we  shall  go,"  said  the  countess  benignly 
from  her  central  throne.  "  My  niece  must  not  miss 
anything  so  pleasant."  She  nodded  affectionately  at 
Gabrielle,  the  pretty  little  teeth  gleaming  agreeably, 
the  rare  rose-leaf  flush  tinging  her  pale  cheek.  "  Ah, 
youth,  youth,"  she  sighed ;  "  alas,  it  comes  but  once  ! " 


130  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  But,  countess,"  the  gallant  old  colonel  rejoined 
from  his  corner,  with  a  bow  and  a  large  wave  of  the 
hand,  "  there  are  some  whom  it  never  leaves  !  "  And 
the  quality  of  his  repartee  blessed  him  that  gave  and 
her  that  took.  It  promoted  her  kindliest  mood,  while 
he  chuckled  frequently  over  his  ready  tongue,  and  was 
comforted,  and  reminded  of  old  days  when  the  world 
listened  to  him.  He  regaled  various  pensioned  com 
rades  with  his  happy  retort,  beginning  cheerfully : 
"  By  the  way,  did  you  happen  to  hear  what  I  said  to 
the  Countess  Kronf els,  the  other  day  ?  It  was  not  so 
bad,  I  assure  you."  Or,  "  Speaking  of  good  stories, 
I  must  tell  you  a  little  experience  of  mine  with  the 
Countess  Kronfels  —  handsome  woman  still,  by  Jove  ! 
I  managed  to  turn  her  a  compliment  rather  neatly. 
Young  Raven  and  Haller  heard  me.  Well,  well,  when 
you  and  I  were  lieutenants,  we  would  not  have  let  an 
old  fellow  get  the  start  of  us  with  a  gallant  speech  to 
any  woman,  young  or  old.  But  we  were  live  men  in 
those  days,  and  times  have  changed  since  then!  The 
countess,  you  see,  —  always  a  bit  of  a  coquette,  you  re 
member,  —  challenged  squarely,  and  I  with  a  smile 
responded "  —  etc.,  etc.  In  fact,  the  old  gentleman 
prepared  a  score  of  introductions,  and  with  him,  for 
weeks,  all  roads,  political,  philosophical,  agricultural, 
or  military,  led  sooner  or  later  to  his  repartee. 

Gabrielle  sat  quietly  expectant  of  some  other  ele 
ment  in  the  conversation,  something  in  which  she 
could  join.  It  all  seemed  preliminary  to  her,  and  she 
waited.  But  nothing  else  came.  The  young  people 
were  evidently  accustomed  to  converse  only  in  this 
fragmentary  fashion,  with  a  series  of  half -questions, 
the  half-answers  to  which  they  already  knew.  There 
was  not  much  laughter,  for  little  was  said  to  awaken 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  131 

it.  Gabrielle,  mechanically  replying  to  Lieutenant 
von  Raven,  was  guilty  of  listening  to  a  story  which 
the  countess  was  telling  in  her  best  French  manner. 
It  was  a  good  story,  she  told  it  well,  and  was  alto 
gether  a  charming  personage,  as  she  sipped  a  tiny 
glass  of  curagoa  after  her  coffee,  with  a  friendly  smile 
and  an  apt  word  for  each  and  all. 

Meanwhile  the  Frau  Major  stole  softly  over  to  gaze 
with  tender  admiration  in  von  Raven's  eyes,  to  smile 
at  von  Haller  like  his  guardian-angel,  to  let  her  hand 
fall  with  a  lingering  caress  upon  her  dear  little  Berta' s 
shoulder,  to  murmur  a  word  of  loving  commendation 
in  her  sweet  Emma's  eager  ear,  and  to  convey  to 
Gabrielle  in  one  grave,  soulful  glance  the  assurance 
of  peculiarly  delicate  comprehension  and  sympathy. 

Having  exhausted  the  list  of  places  where  they  had 
recently  been  and  the  places  where  they  intended  to 
go  in  the  immediate  future,  von  Raven  boldly  leaped 
over  a  few  months,  inspired  to  this  unwonted  intel 
lectual  feat  by  the  novelty  and  charm  of  Gabrielle's 
presence,  and  inquired  if  she  were  going  to  the  May 
races. 

"  Oh,  everybody  will  go,"  chirped  Emma  Mayer. 

"  Oh,  yes,  everybody !  "  repeated  Berta. 

"Great  thing,  you  know,  the  May  races,"  von 
Haller  informed  her. 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  exclaimed  Berta  Mayer. 

"  Yes  indeed  !  "  added  Emma. 

"  Pretty  women,  toilets,  crowd,  gold  cup,"  von  Ra 
ven  announced  with  a  staccato  effect. 

"  Prince's  cup,"  explained  von  Haller.  "  We  ride, 
von  Raven  and  I,"  and  both  men  beamed  with  joy. 

"  Oh,  it  wiU  be  delightful !  "  sighed  Emma  Mayer. 

"Heavenly!  "  Berta  murmured. 


132  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

"  I  do  not  know  whether  I  should  like  races  or  not," 
Gabrielle  said,  "but  I  am  sure  that  I  should  like  to 
see  the  horses." 

"The  gracious  fraulein  rides?"  von  Raven  asked, 
smiling  with  pleasing  anticipations. 

"  I  have  ridden  almost  since  I  began  to  walk.  My 
father  taught  me."  As  she  uttered  the  commonplace 
words,  she  saw  the  cool  wood-paths  and  lanes  of  her 
childhood,  and  her  father  towering  beside  her  on  his 
high  bay,  with  indulgent  amused  smiles  for  the  little 
girl  on  her  pony,  and  all  her  chatter  and  eager  confi 
dences.  She  sighed,  then  said  brightly,  "In  the  coun 
try  one  must  ride.  One  has  so  much  time." 

The  young  men  looked  at  her  with  frank  approval, 
then  at  each  other,  von  Raven  deciding  that  his  Jenny 
was  about  up  to  her  weight,  and  von  Haller  mounting 
her  in  imagination  on  his  Sylphide. 

Gabrielle  thought  that  they  moved  their  feet  about 
in  a  very  lively  way,  and  seemed  to  be  shaking  out 
their  knees. 

Both  were  ruddy  and  beardless,  except  for  feeble 
straw-colored  mustaches.  Both  had  a  regulation 
manner,  and  a  great  deal  of  it,  which  often  served  as 
compensation  for  a  want  of  lingual  fluency.  Both 
had  thin  dark-blonde  hair,  closely  cut,  and  a  certain 
emptiness  or  lack  of  resonance  in  the  voice.  Von 
Raven  was  a  trifle  taller  than  his  friend,  she  noticed, 
and  had  better  eyes.  But  they  moved,  spoke,  and 
apparently  thought  alike.  Too  angular  in  their  ways 
to  possess  what  is  called  ease  of  manner,  they  were 
yet  never  embarrassed,  since  the  security  of  their 
social  position,  together  with  their  categorical  train 
ing,  had  endowed  them  with  automatical  propriety  of 
demeanor,  and  when  the  winged  word  failed  they  did 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  133 

not  suspect  the  deficiency.  Every  situation  of  life 
they  met  with  the  large  composure  of  men  whom  no 
consciousness  of  inferiority,  no  morbid  introspection 
could  perturb.  Their  complacency,  however,  was  of  a 
naive  and  harmless  variety,  as  was  their  vast  enjoy 
ment  of  their  sphere  and  their  amiable  indifference 
toward  all  pursuits  outside  of  the  army.  With  entire 
absence  of  aspiration,  except  to  be  promoted  in  due 
season,  they  were  blessed  with  perpetual  cheerfulness, 
were  merry  and  honest,  punctilious  in  the  discharge 
of  their  duties,  and  in  the  observance  of  their  own 
peculiar  code  of  honor,  which,  while  forbidding  among 
other  things  cheating  at  cards  and  lying  to  men, 
allowed  under  certain  conditions  an  indefinitely  broad 
margin  for  cheating  and  lies  to  the  other  sex. 

They  drew  themselves  up,  performed  a  few  knee- 
shaking  evolutions,  and  contemplated  Gabrielle  with 
frank  pleasure.  She  thought  that  they  looked  very 
boyish,  but  smiled  to  find  herself  comparing  them  with 
her  father.  At  all  events,  they  seemed  friendly  and 
honest,  and  she  could  talk  with  them  more  easily  than 
with  the  young  girls.  The  conversation,  as  soon  as  it 
became  exclusively  equine,  grew  brisk.  One  of  the 
quiet  young  women  whose  name  Gabrielle  had  not 
understood,  but  whom  the  Mayer  sisters  called  "  dear 
Sofie,"  observing  von  Raven's  interest  in  the  stranger, 
remarked  with  fine  acerbity,  — 

"  We  ride,  of  course  ;  but  mamma  prefers  that  we 
should  not  know  much  about  horses." 

"  Then  how  can  you  ride?"  Gabrielle  asked  simply. 

The  lieutenants  laughed,  and  Sofie  never  forgave 
Gabrielle  their  merriment. 

"  Oh,  we  ride  as  everybody  rides,"  was  the  annoyed 
answer,  "  but  we  never  go  into  the  stables." 


134  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

44  Dear  Sofie,"  Berta  Mayer  reminded  her  friend, 
"  the  Princess  Degenhart  goes  into  the  stables." 

"  Dear  Berta,"  returned  the  other  oracularly,  "  the 
Princess  Degenhart  is  a  princess  !  " 

44  That  is  perfectly  true,"  Emma  Mayer  corrob 
orated,  nodding  gravely. 

Gabrielle  looked  smilingly  from  one  to  another  of 
her  critics,  not  suspecting  that  her  offence  lay  less  in 
her  conversation  than  in  her  attractive  personality. 

44  What  I  know,"  she  began,  44  is  really  very  little. 
In  the  country,  where  I  have  always  lived  "  — 

This  admission  produced  half-conciliated  murmurs 
of  urban  superiority. 

44  Oh  yes."  — 44  The  country !"  — 44  That  is  dif 
ferent." 

44 1  have  ridden  sometimes  all  day  long.  And  my 
father  used  to  tell  me  one  never  knows  one's  horse 
completely,  any  more  than  one  perfectly  knows  a  hu 
man  soul,  but  a  good  rider  must  study  his  animal. 
He  wished  me  to  ride  well,  that  is  intelligently,  and 
I  have  loved  it,  and  my  horses,  and  have  had,  I  con 
fess,  the  habit  of  visiting  them  in  their  own  —  apart 
ments,"  turning  involuntarily,  as  she  concluded,  to 
ward  the  lieutenants. 

44  He  was  right.  A  man  never  knows  his  horse," 
von  Raven  said  with  a  laugh. 

44  You  think  you  do,"  von  Haller  added,  44  and  then 
he  shows  you  a  new  trick." 

44  To  ride  well  is  an  elegant  accomplishment,  but 
one  should  never  be  horsey,"  persisted  Sofie,  incensed 
at  what  she  considered  Gabrielle's  arrant  coquetry, 
and  looking  with  appealing  gentleness  at  von  Raven. 

44  But  why  does  one  not  know  people  ?  "  Emma  Mayer 
asked,  with  an  air  of  amusement. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR,  135 

"  Why,  of  course  one  knows  people,"  Berta  said, 
complacently  smoothing  her  long  gloves. 

"  How  funny  !  "  Sofie  exclaimed.  "  It  would  really 
be  odd  if  we  did  n't  know  one  another,  would  it  not, 
Herr  von  Raven  ?  "  with  a  melting  glance. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  he  returned  indifferently.  He  was 
familiar  with  her  repertoire  of  glances,  and  Gabrielle's 
had  the  charm  of  freshness. 

At  the  moment,  she  was  looking  at  him  curiously. 

"  I  presume  Count  Hugo  was  something  like  him," 
she  thought,  and  presently  said :  — 

"  You  were  a  friend  of  Count  Kronfels,  I  believe  ? 
I  mean,  you  are  his  friend  ?  "  For  why  should  I  speak 
of  him  as  if  he  were  dead  ?  she  asked  herself. 

44  Oh,  yes  !  Poor  Hugo !  Awful  thing,  that !  Saw 
him  yesterday.  Looks  like  a  corpse.  Hollow  cheeks. 
Big  eyes." 

"  Best  rider  among  us.  Awful  thing,  that  acci 
dent."  Von  Haller  had  the  grace  to  lower  his  voice 
and  glance  at  the  countess. 

"You  saw  him  yesterday?"  Gabrielle  repeated 
thoughtfully.  It  seemed  strange  to  her  that  von 
Raven  had  seen  the  mysterious  tenant  of  that  silent 
east  wing.  In  spite  of  their  poverty  of  expression, 
the  young  men  evinced  a  certain  amount  of  regret 
and  good  feeling. 

"  Was  riding  by,"  von  Raven  replied.  "  He  was 
sunning  himself.  Good  fellow,  Hugo.  Clever. 
Plucky." 

"  He  was  perfectly  splendid !  "  sighed  one  of  the 
Mayers. 

"  Perfectly  !  "  gasped  the  other. 

"  Shall  be  coming  to  see  him  soon,"  von  Raven  an 
nounced  with  unprecedented  astuteness. 


136  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  I  too,"  von  Haller  hastened  to  say  with  a  sly  smile 
at  his  friend. 

"  Perhaps  you  would  kindly  tell  him,"  von  Kaven 
added. 

"  Yes,  tell  him,  please,"  von  Haller  begged. 

Gabrielle  colored  slightly,  and  hesitated. 

"  I  will  tell  him  when  I  see  him,"  she  returned 
gravely. 

"  Dear  countess,"  the  Frau  Major  was  saying  in  her 
rich  caressing  tones,  "  how  noble,  how  tender  !  Yet  I 
am  not  surprised.  I  knew  well  that  whoever  failed 
me,  I  could  depend  upon  —  you  !  " 

"  But  who  could  fail  you  in  so  distressing  a  case  ?  " 
demanded  the  countess.  "  Hundreds  of  people  dead 
—  crushed  —  mangled  ;  families  impoverished  —  chil 
dren  weeping  for  their  parents  —  parents  for  their 
children.  Oh  that  such  things  need  be  !  " 

"  It  is  a  church  in  Ancona,"  the  Frau  Major  ex 
plained  to  the  younger  group  ;  "  the  floor  gave  way 
and  a  wall  fell.  I  am  raising  funds  for  the  Italian 
Consul  —  he  is  a  special  friend  of  mine  —  I  am  plan 
ning  a  small  bazar,"  she  murmured.  "  Every  one  is 
so  kind,  my  friends  are  so  noble  —  but  our  dear  coun 
tess  is  grand  in  her  giving." 

The  countess's  eyes  were  moist.  She  was  touched 
by  those  sufferers  whose  moans  she  could  not  hear, 
whose  mangled  bodies  she  need  not  see,  whose  sor 
rows  and  wrongs  were  too  remote  to  incommode 
her. 

She  rose,  glancing  at  Gabrielle,  who  came  quickly 
forward.  The  countess's  face  as  she  made  her  adieux 
was  softened  and  strikingly  fine. 

"  And  dear  Count  Hugo,"  murmured  the  Frau 
Major. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  137 

"  Ah,  yes.  I  will  not  fail  to  tell  him.  He  will 
surely  wish  to  give.  He  of  all  men." 

"  He  is  always  noble,"  returned  her  friend,  adding 
in  her  calm  tone  of  inward  conviction,  "  he  is  like  his 
mother." 

Gabrielle's  heart  was  full  of  sympathy,  and  not 
free  from  self-reproach.  Descending  the  stairs,  she 
reached  out  with  a  mute  and  gentle  gesture,  and 
slipped  her  hand  under  the  countess's  arm. 

"  Don't  touch  me  !  "  was  the  querulous  response. 
"  I  hate  to  be  touched  going  downstairs." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  the  girl  returned  drawing 
back  quickly,  and  with  the  positiveness  of  youth  in 
ferring  that  the  previous  access  of  benevolence  — 
in  reality  quite  genuine  while  it  lasted  —  had  been 
simulated. 

"  The  Countess  Waldenberg's,"  the  countess  or 
dered  her  coachman.  "  Drive  fast.  We  have  stayed 
an  unconscionable  time,"  she  complained.  "It  is  too 
late  to  make  formal  visits.  I  will  take  you  to  a  couple 
of  houses  where  I  go  often  —  intimate  friends.  You 
were  not  especially  affable  to  those  young  girls.  They 
go  everywhere." 

Gabrielle  looked  inquiringly  at  her. 

"  How  you  stare,  child  !  I  do  not  say  they  are  im 
portant  in  themselves,  but  they  are  a  part  of  public 
opinion.  One  must  respect  public  opinion.  If  I 
take  you  out  with  me,  I  wish  public  opinion  in  your 
favor." 

"  You  surely  cannot  mean  those  little  Mayer  sis 
ters  ? "  returned  Gabrielle,  opening  her  eyes  wide, 
and  recalling  their  minute  personalities  kindly  enough, 
but  with  the  conviction  that  their  contribution  to  pub 
lic  opinion  could  not  be  very  weighty. 


138  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Why  not  ? "  demanded  the  countess  sharply. 
"  They  may  not  be  profound,  but  society  likes  them 
all  the  better  for  that.  Society,"  she  continued  point 
edly,  "  does  not  like  a  young  person  to  act  like  an  old 
maid,  or  a  blue-stocking,  or  be  instructive  or  superior." 

"  I  should  hope  not !  "  Gabrielle  rejoined  with  per 
fect  unconsciousness  and  a  fresh  little  laugh. 

"  Hm !  "  said  the  countess  dryly. 

After  a  moment,  she  began :  "  Be  a  little  careful 
here,  Gabrielle.  You  were  too  formal  with  girls  of 
your  own  age.  You  can  scarcely  be  formal  enough 
to  please  the  Countess  Waldenberg.  She  is  the  most 
influential  woman  at  court.  The  queen  is  strongly 
attached  to  her.  She  is  marrying  off  her  daughters 
now  —  not  without  difficulty,"  she  added  with  an  un 
pleasant  laugh,  "  and  she  is  not  in  the  most  amiable 
mood  in  the  world.  The  truth  is,  she  is  cold  as  a 
stone  except  for  her  boundless  ambition.  But  she  is 
clever,  and  a  great  reader.  Never  talk  about  books 
with  young  people,  Gabrielle.  It  is  pedantic.  But  if 
the  countess  begins,  follow  her  lead.  Be  intelligent, 
but  on  no  account  original." 

"  A  well-bred  duck  turns  her  toes  in ! "  thought 
the  girl  recalling  Hans  Andersen's  mother-duck  tutor 
ing  her  ducklings  before  launching  them  upon  the 
duck-plane  of  desirable  society. 

The  countess  frowned  at  the  mischievous,  wilful 
face  turned  towards  her,  and  continued :  "It  is  no 
laughing  matter.  I  wish  you  to  make  a  favorable  im 
pression.  Otherwise  you  reflect  discredit  upon  me." 

Gabrielle  stared  at  her  haughtily.  By  what  right 
did  this  woman  presume  to  dictate  to  a  Baroness  von 
Dohna  ?  Surely  she  was  not  an  appurtenance  of  the 
Kronfels  estate.  Surely  what  she  did  or  left  undone 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  139 

concerned  herself  chiefly.  And  as  for  discredit  —  the 
word  was  strong  !  —  her  father  would  not  fancy  it  used 
in  connection  with  his  daughter. 

"  Well  ?  "  said  the  countess  impatiently. 

Gabrielle  was  silent. 

"What  are  you  thinking?  Why  consider  your 
words  ?  Young  people  should  be  ingenuous." 

"  I  am  thinking,"  began  Gabrielle,  breaking  bounds 
impetuously,  "that  the  Countess  Waldenberg  will, 
have  to  take  me  as  she  finds  me,  whether  she  likes  me 
or  not,  and  perhaps  —  indeed,  it  is  very  probable  —  I 
shall  not  like  her.  And  I  am  thinking  that  you  might 
be  the  freest  soul  on  earth  !  You  have  everything. 
Years  enough  to  make  you  wise  and  sure.  Wealth 
enough  to  satisfy  every  wish  and  bless  the  lives  of 
thousands.  Position  that  gives  you  dignity  and  power. 
Why  should  you  care  for  the  others?  Why  should 
you  listen  to  what  they  say?  Why  should  you  not 
walk  the  streets  barefoot,  if  it  were  with  a  good  pur 
pose  and  it  pleased  you  ?  " 

The  countess,  watching  her  with  increasing  enter 
tainment,  now  broke  into  a  merry  laugh. 

"  Tiens,  tiens"  she  exclaimed,  "  imagine  me  walking 
the  streets  nu-pieds,  like  little  What  's-Her-Name  in 
the  play !  "  Then  with  a  very  successful  air  of  kindly 
wisdom,  she  continued :  "  But  my  fiery  little  revolu 
tionist,  the  sooner  you  abandon  those  ideas,  the  better. 
Freedom  to  be  one's  self  in  a  city  where  king  and 
court  reside  ?  Nonsense !  It  does  not  exist.  The 
king 's  not  free.  The  queen  's  not  free.  Nobody  is 
free.  In  fact  it  would  be  a  very  vulgar  state  of  so 
ciety —  your  freedom !  "  and  she  raised  her  vinaigrette 
as  if  some  unpleasant  odor  pervaded  the  atmosphere. 

"  In  our  village,  the  people  watched  and  feared  one 


140  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

another,"  returned  Gabrielle,  conscious  of  fighting 
not  only  for  a  principle  but  for  her  personal  inde 
pendence,  "  and  when  the  baker's  wife  cringed  to  the 
butcher's  wife,  I  thought  it  was  because  they  were 
uneducated." 

"  Ah,  our  village  !  "  The  countess  lifted  her  eye 
brows  ironically  and  prolonged  her  delicate  attentions 
to  her  vinaigrette.  "  But  we  wander  from  the  sub 
ject.  We  were  speaking  of  society.  I  assure  you 
that  if  I  watch  the  Countess  Waldenberg,  she  watches 
me  no  less.  The  whole  court  watches  —  and  listens. 
Something  is  hinted.  Every  tongue  wags.  It  has 
always  been  so.  It  will  always  be  so.  Why,  —  it  is, 
in  short,  civilization  !  "  she  concluded  triumphantly. 

"  I  would  rather  be  a  hermit  in  a  cave  !  "  Gabrielle 
retorted  with  indignation. 

"  Everybody  must  care  for  his  neighbor's  opinion, 
whether  he  care  for  his  neighbor  or  not." 

"  Then  everybody  is  a  coward  !  " 

"  Tut,  tut !  that  is  scarcely  civil,"  returned  the 
countess  with  great  exhilaration  —  "  and  here  we  are. 

O 

Smooth  your  ruffled  plumage,  or  they  will  say  that 
we  have  been  having  a  tiff,  which,  to  be  sure,  is  not 
unknown  in  their  family,  Mercedes  being  no  dove,  but 
they  don't  admit  the  public  to  their  private  diver 
sions.  Now  be  wise,  Gabrielle.  Don't  drag  out  your 
little  pet  guillotine  and  cut  off  our  heads,"  and  she 
smiled  like  the  most  affable  and  simple-hearted  old 
lady  in  the  world,  as  she  entered  the  Countess  Wal- 
denberg's  drawing-room,  Gabrielle  following  helpless 
and  indignant,  with  luminous  eyes,  a  glow  on  her 
cheeks,  looking  tall,  holding  her  head  high,  and  greet 
ing  the  countess  with  a  haughtiness  which  that  criti 
cal  dame  found  admirable. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  141 

"  Hugo  being  hors  de  combat,  what  does  our  friend 
here  mean  to  do  with  this  interesting  girl  ? "  she 
asked  herself,  as  she  chatted  suavely  with  her  guests. 
"  No  girl  in  Wynburg  has  this  faultless  repose.  It 
suits  my  taste  far  better  than  Mercedes'  manner. 
She  has,  at  times,  too  much  Southern  vivacity  to 
please  me.  Why  my  children  should  both  lack  my 
fastidiousness  is  a  mystery.  I  don't  think  this  girl 
will  interfere  with  Elsa.  The  styles  are  too  different 
to  conflict.  And  Elsa  is  so  perfectly  superficial,"  re 
flected  the  impartial  mother,  "  that  a  man  who  would 
fancy  her  would  find  Fraulein  von  Dohna  too  earnest. 
But  Mercedes  is  inclined  to  have  ideas.  Mercedes 
thinks.  She  would  have  found  a  rival  here  possibly. 
It  is  well  that  she  has  listened  to  reason.  It  is  well 
that  her  future  is  assured." 

Inquiring  solicitously  after  Hugo,  and  listening  to 
evidences  of  warm  maternal  feeling,  of  sorrow,  sym 
pathy,  and  loving  pity,  —  in  short,  all  that  could  be 
desired  during  a  brief  visit,  —  the  Countess  Walden- 
berg,  noting  Gabrielle's  cold  and  steady  gaze  at  the 
lamenting  mother,  decided  :  "  Yes,  she  certainly  has 
very  remarkable  pose  for  her  age.  It  might  have  im 
pressed  the  marquis.  It  is  well  that  things  are 
settled." 

"  But  let  me  not  linger  upon  my  poor  boy's  suffer 
ings,  dear  friend.  How  is  Mercedes?  And  sunny 
little  Elsa?  You  are  blessed  in  your  children,"  with 
a  sigh. 

"  I  am  indeed,"  was  the  suave  answer.  "  Elsa,  I 
am  sorry  to  say,  is  not  at  home.  She  would  have 
been  so  pleased  to  meet  Fraulein  von  Dohna.  But 
Mercedes  "  —  she  paused,  smiled,  and  gave  her  audi 
ence  time  to  prepare  for  an  impressive  statement. 


142  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  I  know  you  will  sympathize  with  my  great  happi 
ness,"  she  resumed,  —  "the  engagement  will  be  an 
nounced  formally  in  a  few  days  ;  in  the  mean  time  it 
gives  me  pleasure  to  confide  it  in  advance  to  so  old 
and  dear  a  friend.  Mercedes  is  engaged  to  marry 
the  Marquis  de  Vallion." 

"Dear  Olga!  "  exclaimed  the  Countess  Kronfels. 

"  Dear  Adelheid !  "  murmured  the  Countess  Wal- 
denberg. 

They  embraced  and  kissed  each  other. 

"  Mercedes  is  so  happy  !  " 

"  She  must  be,  indeed  !  " 

"  Nothing  else  could  have  gratified  her  father  and 
me  so  deeply.  The  little  difference  in  years  "  — 

"  Ah,  what  is  that  ?  I  have  known  the  happiest 
marriages  in  spite  of  that  unimportant  disparity. 
Mercedes  has  chosen  wisely." 

"  We  think  so.  And  I  was  about  to  say  that  there 
is  after  all  a  certain  earnestness  in  Mercedes,  a  seri 
ousness  beneath  her  vivacity ;  and  this  she  has  now 
proved." 

"  Undoubtedly.  And  there  is  an  element  of  dig 
nity  and  security  in  marrying  a  person  of  mature 
years." 

"  Quite  true,  dear  Adelheid,  and  yet  the  marquis's 
devotion  is  all  that  the  fondest  young  heart  could 
desire." 

Gabrielle  was  greatly  interested.  Here  at  last 
was  a  pleasant  experience.  The  stately  mother  was 
so  unfeignedly  glad  in  her  child's  happiness,  that  the 
young  girl  felt  at  home  with  this  simple  display  of 
natural  feeling,  and  smiled  charmingly,  and  extending 
both  hands  with  a  cordial  gesture,  wished  the  countess 
and  her  daughter  happiness. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  143 

"  Mercedes,"  said  the  delighted  mamma,  slightly 
raising  her  voice.  "  Mercedes  !  " 

Some  one  replied  from  the  next  room.  A  heavy 
portiere  was  pushed  back,  and  a  strikingly  handsome 
dark  woman,  in  black  velvet,  followed  by  the  most 
wonderfully  made  old  man  Gabrielle  had  ever  seen, 
came  in  smiling  and  received  the  Countess  Kronfels' 
hearty  congratulations. 

Glancing  furtively  at  the  marquis,  Gabrielle  was 
sick  at  heart.  Was  this  the  person  of  mature  years 
who  could  afford  rest  and  dignity?  Who  could  offer 
the  fondest  devotion,  fill  the  mother's  soul  with  con 
tentment,  and  the  daughter's  with  joy  ?  She  scarcely 
dared  to  look  at  him  for  fear  Mercedes  might  imagine 
she  was  trying  to  discover  how  he  was  put  together. 

For  Mercedes'  brilliant  eyes  were  incessantly  upon 
her ;  Mercedes'  hands,  glittering  with  gems,  made 
rapid  pretty  little  gestures  which  fascinated  her ;  Mer 
cedes'  laughing  voice  ran  on,  and  —  the  wonder  of 
it !  —  never  gave  a  quiver  or  a  cry  of  disgust.  She 
left  her  marquis  adroitly  with  the  older  ladies,  and 
devoted  herself  to  Gabrielle,  chatting  gayly  of  many 
things,  some  indeed  which  the  Mayers  had  men 
tioned,  but  with  a  world-wide  difference,  for  Countess 
Mercedes  had  a  charm  and  a  grace  and  a  gleam  of 
feeling  in  all  that  she  said,  however  trivial  the  theme. 

"Your  cousin  must  be  immensely  glad  that  you 
have  come,"  she  remarked  suddenly,  with  her  flashing 
smile. 

"My  cousin?  Oh,  you  mean  Count  Kronfels. 
We  are  only  cousins  by  courtesy.  And  I  "  —  Gabri 
elle  hesitated,  —  "  have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  he 
is  glad.  In  fact  "  — 

"The   villa   must  be   so  large   and   lonely  for  an 


144  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

invalid,"  Mercedes  went  on,  smiling  more  intensely. 
"The  countess  is,  as  we  all  know,  devoted  to  him. 
Still  he  must  be  glad  of  your  presence,  even  if  he 
has  not  said  so.  He  must  indeed  have  changed  if  "  — 
She  broke  off  abruptly,  cast  one  glance  at  the  veter 
ans.  "  Let  me  show  you  this  lovely  photograph  of 
the  young  princess,"  she  said  very  distinctly,  draw 
ing  Gabrielle  toward  a  table  at  a  little  distance. 
"How  does  he  bear  it?  Tell  me  about  him,"  she 
said,  smiling  steadily. 

"  He  has  not  left  his  rooms  since  I  came,  and  I  can 
tell  you  nothing.  I  have  been  here  so  short  a  time, 
and"  — 

"  Ah,  yes,  yes,  I  had  forgotten,"  Mercedes  rejoined 
hastily.  She  was  silent  a  moment.  u  Will  you  tell 
him  that  we  spoke  of  him  —  that  I  think  of  him, 
often  ?  No,  don't  tell  him  that,"  she  exclaimed, 
laughing,  "  that  is  an  imbecile  message.  Hugo  and  I 
used  to  be  very  good  friends,"  she  explained  ;  "  and 
how  is  he  looking  ?  " 

Gabrielle  had  not  had  the  faintest  impulse  to  reveal 
to  Lieutenant  von  Raven,  when  he  sent  his  friendly 
greeting  to  Hugo,  that  in  all  probability  she  would 
have  no  opportunity  to  deliver  it ;  but  as  she  stood 
face  to  face  with  this  beautiful  woman,  whom  she 
liked  at  once,  and  whose  eyes  were  seeking  hers  with 
an  intentness  which  the  smiling  mouth  contradicted 
in  vain,  she  replied  simply :  — 

"  I  am  very  sorry.  But  I  do  not  know  how  he 
looks.  I  have  not  seen  him.  He  does  not  wish  to 
see  me.  Why  should  he  care  to  see  a  stranger  ?  I 
understand  it  very  well,"  she  said  with  heightened 
color.  "  But  you,"  she  added,  after  a  moment,  —  "  you 
were  his  friend.  Why  do  you  not  come  to  see  him  ? 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  145 

He  must  be  very  lonely.  Surely  it  would  give  him 
pleasure  to  see  you ! "  she  exclaimed  with  innocent 
admiration. 

Mercedes  gave  her  a  peculiar  but  kind  glance,  and 
said  gently,  "  Thank  you,  but  I  doubt  it." 

The  veterans  were  looking  toward  them. 

"  Here  is  another  one  with  the  prince,"  Mercedes 
went  on  in  a  clear  voice.  "  I  don't  like  photographs 
where  the  man  sits  and  the  woman  stands,  do  you? 
It  does  n't  seem  civil.  But  the  photographers  insist 
upon  it.  They  say  a  woman  4  takes '  better  stand 
ing.  What  odious  beings  they  are  —  photographers  ! 
Such  tyrants !  " 

"  How  brilliant  and  well  she  looks,"  the  Countess 
Kronfels  observed. 

"  Yes,  dear  Adelheid,  it  is  her  happiness,"  returned 
the  mother  placidly,  reflecting :  "  How  can  she  drop 
him  like  an  umbrella  in  the  corner  and  coolly  walk 
off?  She  is  not  married  yet!"  beaming  upon  her 
future  son-in-law,  her  senior  by  fifteen  years,  who, 
with  a  juvenile  frisk  and  a  vain  smile,  raised  her 
hand  to  his  painted  lips. 

The  older  women  made  the  lingering  adieux  of  lov 
ing  friends  loth  to  part.  Upon  reaching  her  coupe 
the  Countess  Kronfels  glanced  hurriedly  at  her  watch. 

"Shall  I  go?  Shall  I  not?"  she  said  gayly. 
"  Yes  I  will,  for  the  merest  little  three  minute  visit." 
As  they  drove  away  she  muttered  :  "  I  must  see  how 
the  Baroness  Fuchs  takes  the  engagement." 

"  Does  it  matter  how  anybody  takes  it  ?  "  Gabrielle 
asked  sadly. 

"  Matter  ?  It  matters  immensely.  How  society 
takes  a  thing  is  more  important  than  the  thing  itself, 
of  course.  Be  a  little  gayer  at  the  Baroness  Fuchs', 


146  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Gabrielle.  She  likes  us  to  seem  intimate  with  her. 
She  is  not  one  of  us,  you  know.  She  is  an  American. 
Her  people  made  hats  or  buttons  in  Philadelphia. 
Some  say  hats.  Some  say  buttons.  Whichever  it 
was,  it  is  now  enveloped  in  prehistoric  gloom.  And 
she  is  a  success  here.  That  cannot  be  denied.  She 
has  married  four  daughters  to  the  best  names  in  the 
kingdom.  No  one  feels  the  pulses  of  society  better 
than  she.  Between  us,  she  is  a  bit  of  a  mauvaise 
langue,  and  hates  the  Countess  Waldenberg.  You 
see  they  both  had  daughters,"  laughed  the  old  lady. 
"  But  they  have  always  been  devoted  to  me.  I  had 
a  son." 

"  Is  she  your  intimate  friend,  too  ?  " 

"  I  presume  that  is  satire,"  returned  the  countess, 
imperturbably.  "  My  dear,  in  the  great  world  people 
have  little  time  for  sentimental  friendships.  The 
Baroness  Fuchs  and  I  are  on  excellent  terms,  as  you 
will  see." 

Gabrielle  did  see,  and  hear,  and  wished  that  for 
the  moment  she  were  blind  and  deaf.  For  the  small 
and  pompous  woman  with  fishy  eyes  and  a  cold 
guarded  smile  implied  the  most  unpleasant  things  of 
the  Countess  Mercedes,  who,  Gabrielle  was  convinced, 
was  nobly  immolating  herself,  like  girls  of  whom  one 
reads,  for  her  family — for  a  principle;  and  —  since 
the  Waldenbergs  lived  in  luxury,  and  were  powerful 
—  for  something  mysterious,  indeed,  yet  cruelly  inex 
orable,  or  Mercedes  would  never  marry  that  ghastly 
old  man. 

The  countess's  brilliant  spirits  continued  at  dinner. 
She  chatted  of  Paris,  of  the  late  count,  of  persons 
whom  she  had  known  in  Italy,  in  Spain  and  Russia. 
She  laughed  much  and  made  Gabrielle  laugh.  For 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  147 

she  had  travelled  far  and  wide,  met  eminent  men  and 
women,  and  in  the  rare  moments  when  her  mind 
dwelt  upon  pleasant  subjects,  she  knew  how  to  be 
amiable  and  humorous,  and  recalling  some  witticism 
of  long  ago  could  revivify  it  with  rare  skill. 

After  dinner  she  smoked  a  cigarette,  drank  a  little 
glass  of  curacoa,  put  on  a  black  lace  cap  with  a  bunch 
of  crimson  roses  on  one  side,  pinned  it  with  diamond- 
headed  hair-pins,  and  drove  to  Carmen  with  Gabrielle, 
who  longed  to  remain  at  home,  but  was  not  asked  to 
indicate  her  wishes. 

She  was  weary  and  excited,  and  the  passionate,  wild 
music  moved  her  strangely.  In  the  pauses  many  men 
came  to  pay  their  respects  to  the  countess,  and  the 
engagement  was  discussed  with  enigmatical  smiles. 
When  von  Raven  and  von  Haller  appeared  for  a 
few  moments,  and  one  of  them  remarked  :  "  Old  skel 
eton.  Second  childhood.  Handsome  woman."  And 
the  other :  "  Can't  she  waltz  !  Famous.  It 's  a  shame. 
Upon  my  word,"  Gabrielle's  heart  went  out  with 
thankfulness  to  these  honest  youths,  and  she  smiled 
cordially  and  listened  scrupulously,  for  she  sometimes 
failed  to  instantly  catch  their  meaning,  and  it  occurred 
to  her  if,  as  she  had  read,  language  was  originally  in 
ter  jectional,  their  mode  of  speech  must  bear  some 
resemblance  to  the  natural  and  spontaneous  ejacula 
tions  of  primeval  man. 

"  Really,  I  did  not  imagine  the  little  Methodist 
could  illuminate  herself  to  this  extent,"  was  the  coun 
tess's  secret  comment.  "  She  evidently  enjoys  atten 
tion,  and  is  opening  her  batteries  upon  von  Raven 
with  no  loss  of  time." 

After  the  opera  the  countess  insisted  upon  Gabri 
elle's  presence  for  a  "  cosy  quarter-of-an-hour,"  smoked 


148  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

some  cigarettes  and  sipped  a  couple  of  glasses  of  cura- 
$oa,  laughing  at  trifles  like  a  merry  child,  and  looking 
pretty  and  gay. 

"  I  must  think  of  something  sweet  to  call  you,"  she 
said  suddenly  with  a  sentimental  air. 

"Don't  you  like  my  name?"  Gabrielle  rejoined  in 
differently. 

"  Oh,  yes,  but  when  I  really  love  any  one,  I  like  to 
choose  a  name  for  her.  It  is  a  fancy  of  mine.  I  am 
full  of  fancies,  as  you  will  discover." 

Gabrielle  was  tired  and  sleepy.  She  suppressed  a 
yawn  and  said  nothing. 

"  I  have  it !  "  exclaimed  the  countess  with  her  most 
engaging  smile.  "  There  is  something  soft  yet  clear 
in  you." 

"  Indeed,"  Gabrielle  returned  wearily. 

"  Yes,  and  I  shall  call  you  4  Moonbeam.'  " 

Gabrielle  would  not  have  objected  at  the  moment 
had  the  countess  chosen  to  call  her  Heathen-Darkness. 
Her  one  desire  was  to  escape.  But  she  braced  herself 
to  suffer  some  kisses,  and  to  listen  to  erratic  senti 
mental  flights,  and  finally  after  twelve  the  countess 
declared  that  she  had  had  a  charming  day,  but  was 
somewhat  weary,  and  Gabrielle  must  remember  that 
very  sensitive  nerves  needed  considerable  sleep. 

"  Good-night,  my  sweet  Moonbeam.  I  am  sure  that 
you  are  going  to  be  the  loving  heart  that  I  have 
sought  and  never  found." 

Gabrielle  shook  her  head,  and  was  about  to  depre 
cate  this  assumption,  but  it  sounded  sincere  and  puz 
zled  her.  She  hesitated,  then  said  gravely  :  — 

"  Do  you  mean  that  no  one  has  ever  loved  you,  and 
that  you  miss  affection  ?  " 

"  Loved  me  ?     I  have  been  adored  —  worshipped," 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  149 

returned  the  countess  pettishly,  repudiating  Gabrielle's 
matter-of-fact  translation  of  her  rhapsodies.  "  But  no 
one  has  ever  comprehended  me  fully,"  and  she  sighed. 
It  seemed  like  a  genuine  sigh  from  an  old  grief. 

With  the  persistency  of  a  child  Gabrielle  asked  :  — 

"  Not  your  husband  ?  " 

"  What  a  question !  He  was  devoted  to  me,  of 
course.  But  that  is  not  what  I  mean.  Then  the  count 
was  very  peculiar." 

"  Not  your  son  ?  " 

"  Hugo  least  of  all." 

"  It  is  very  sad,"  murmured  Gabrielle.  "  It  is  ter 
ribly  sad." 

"  Well,  well,"  remarked  the  countess,  to  whom  this 
solemn  catechism  was  growing  irksome,  particularly 
as  Gabrielle  was  staring  at  her  with  a  kind  of  com 
miseration,  —  and  while  it  was  one  thing  to  allude 
feelingly  to  one's  uncomprehended  superiority,  it  was 
quite  another  to  be  regarded  as  a  forlorn  and  pitiable 
object,  —  "let  us  follow  Mousey 's  example  and  sleep 
away  our  sorrows.  Hear  the  little  love  snore.  Is 
it  not  cheerful  ?  Good  -  night,"  kissing  her,  "  and 
God  bless  my  pretty  Moonbeam.  Roschen,"  calling 
the  sleepy  maid  waiting  in  the  corridor,  "  light  the 
Baroness  von  Dohna  to  her  rooms." 

When  Roschen  lighted  the  gas,  Gabrielle  saw  with 
amazement  that  shawls  were  pinned  across  her  toilet- 
table  and  every  mirror. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Oh,  it 's  what  I  Ve  learned  from  the  countess. 
Babette  and  I  have  to  cover  up  all  the  mirrors  every 
night.  She 's  got  so  many,  it 's  a  deal  of  work,  but 
here  it  was  no  trouble." 

"  I  don't  understand  you." 


150  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  It  is  bad  luck  to  sleep  with  mirrors  looking  at 
you,"  pretty  Roschen  explained  with  a  not  too  re 
spectful  smile.  "  She  's  that  nervous  "  — 

"Take  those  things  down,  please,  and  don't  tell 
tales." 

The  girl  obeyed,  then  waited.  She  was  stifling  her 
yawns,  yet  was  curious  in  regard  to  that  great,  beauti 
ful,  happy  world  of  rich  people,  fine  gowns,  and  daz 
zling  lieutenants,  where  the  young  baroness  had  been. 
Surely  a  crumb  of  information  might  fall  from  her 
lips,  when  the  countess  brought  back  whole  loaves  to 
Babette. 

"  You  may  go,  Roschen.     Good-night." 

The  maid  reluctantly  withdrew.  The  door  closed 
upon  her.  Gabrielle  was  at  last  alone.  She  leaned 
her  elbows  on  the  table,  her  chin  in  her  hands,  and 
drew  two  or  three  long,  deep  breaths.  She  was  no 
longer  sleepy,  no  longer  fatigued,  and  she  experienced 
a  sense  of  relief  as  if  a  heavy  physical  burden  had 
fallen  from  her  shoulders.  She  threw  open  the  win 
dows.  The  night-breeze,  blowing  straight  through  her 
rooms,  was  the  one  familiar  and  friendly  thing  in  that 
great  house, 

"  I  must  decide  —  now  !  "  she  thought,  walking 
slowly  up  and  down ;  and  Hugo,  sleepless  and  in  pain, 
listened  to  her  step,  and  in  spite  of  his  ready  sneer  for 
his  mother's  toy,  was  forced,  in  reason,  to  admit  that 
she  must  be  unhappy. 

"  She  is  a  conspirator  —  a  nihilist.  She 's  a  Roman 
Catholic,  trotting  up  and  down  for  penance.  She  is 
a  Lady  Macbeth,  with  remorse  in  her  soul.  Or  she  is 
a  good  sort  of  girl  in  the  wrong  place." 

But  the  mocking  fancies  vanished,  and  only  the 
final  simple  conclusion  remained  in  his  mind,  and  his 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  151 

thought  of  her  was  not  without  pity.  "  Well,  she 
must  fight  her  own  battles.  After  all,  what  are  they  to 
me  ?  "  Yet  he  began  to  wonder  again  how  she  looked 

—  this  girl,  with  her  unknown  griefs ;   and  what  his 
mother  had  said  and  done ;  and  whom  they  had  seen, 
to-day,  of  the  people  whom  he  used  to  know,  when  he 
was  alive. 

If  there  was  a  rude  simplicity  in  teaching  Gabrielle 
to  hate  a  lie  and  love  a  horse,  and  not  letting  her  sus 
pect  the  manifold  dangers  lurking  in  draughts  and 
neighbors'  judgments,  it  would  yet  appear  that  there 
were  some  advantages  in  the  Dohna  system.  For  a 
good  stout  hatred  of  lying,  in  general,  tended  to  pre 
serve  her  from  the  most  insidious  form  of  the  disease 

—  flattering  falsehood  to  one's  self.     While  being  a 
girl  who  really  loved  her  horse,  and  had  ridden  him 
gallantly,  and  learned  to  bear  wind  and  weather,  heat 
and  cold,  broiling  sun  and  drenched  raiment,  fatigue, 
lame  muscles,  bruises  and  broken  bones  if  need  be,  — 
and  loved  him  loyally  all  the  same,  she  had  gained,  it 
may  be,  a  suspicion  of  what  patience  and   fortitude 
mean.     And  as  to  neighbors  and  draughts,  she  was  so 
ignorant  of  their  hydra-headed  possibilities,  that  she 
was  able  to  consider  her  course  with  far  more  single- 

O 

ness  of  purpose  and  fearlessness  than  if  she  had  been 
preyed  upon  by  premonitions  of  influenza,  or  the 
haunting  necessity  of  suiting  her  decision,  not  to  the 
demands  of  her  own  conscience,  but  to  the  fluctuating 
sentiments  of  the  world  at  large. 

"  I  must  decide,"  she  told  herself.  "  Shall  I  go  or 
stay  ?  I  do  not  like  it.  That  is  sure.  It  is  detest 
able.  And  there  is  no  good  in  it,  for  Count  Hugo 
will  not  let  me  be  useful." 

Not   yet  two   days  ?     It  was   incredible.     All   the 


152  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

persons  she  had  met  came  passing  in  review.  The 
colossal  egotism  of  the  countess  had  surely  been  ap 
propriating  her,  body  and  soul,  longer  than  that. 
How  it  pervaded  and  possessed  the  villa  !  Even  those 
great  empty  rooms  below,  seldom  used,  were  full 
of  it,  and  every  soul  in  the  house  staggered  under  its 
weight. 

And  who  and  what  was  the  countess  ?  WTiich  was 
she  ?  Which  of  all  those  rapid,  confusing  phases  ? 

44  Oh,  papa,"  she  sighed,  "  you  thought  that  it 
would  be  so  pleasant  and  enriching  for  me,  —  and 
Lucie  said  that  I  ought  to  see  a  little  life,  and  here  it 
is!  This! 

"  What  have  I  been  this  day  ?  Everything  that  I 
despise.  A  toy,  a  captive,  a  tool.  Not  once  has  she 
inquired  what  I  like,  what  I  think  or  feel  or  am. 
She  has  simply  dragged  me  after  her  chariot.  But  I 
am  not  her  slave  —  not  yet  bought  and  sold.  If  I 
write,  my  letter  will  reach  them  in  Paris.  I  can  join 
them  at  Marseilles.  Or  I  could  go  to  the  other  '  cou 
sins  '  in  Berlin.  If  it  would  do  any  one  any  good, 
I  could  bear  it  here.  But  why  be  uncomfortable  for 
nothing  ?  Now  if  it  were  for  papa.  I  could  yield  my 
will  and  dignity  and  peace  of  mind  for  papa.  For 
papa,  I  would  be  burned  at  the  stake  !  " 

She  paused.     Her  expression  changed. 

"  Oh,  would  I  ?  Would  I  indeed  ?  And  this  is 
how  I  prove  it.  It 's  quite  like  me.  I  —  I  —  I  —  that 
is  what  occupies  me  !  I  am  willing  to  be  burned  at 
the  stake,  oh,  yes,  but  I  wish  to  choose  my  stake,  ad 
just  it  to  my  size,  and  appoint  the  hour  for  lighting 
the  fagots  !  " 

She  pushed  back  her  hair  impatiently.  "  Let  me 
look  at  this  thing  squarely,  with  no  nonsense.  Papa 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  153 

has  placed  me  here.  There  is  still  time  to  beg  him  to 
take  me  away,  and  he  will  never  leave  me  if  he  knows 
that  I  am  unhappy,  not  for  Lucie  —  not  for  the  whole 
world.  He  would  not  let  me  try  any  more  cousin- 
experiments,  he  would  simply  take  me  with  them,  as 
he  at  first  intended.  He  would  telegraph  me  to  join 
them.  And  when  they  sail,  there  I  should  be  —  be 
cause  I  cried  out  with  pain  —  and  ran  away  —  be 
cause  I  was  too  babyish  to  be  left  behind  —  because  I 
did  not  hesitate  to  disturb  everybody's  arrangements 
—  because  I  was  selfish,  and  a  coward  !  " 

Hot  tears  started  to  her  eyes,  and  a  great  longing 
for  her  father's  protecting  arms  filled  her  heart. 

"  I  shall  not  be  poisoned,  or  starved,  or  beaten.  I 
shall  be  safe,  and  live  in  a  beautiful  house,  and  drive 
in  a  fine  carriage,  and  I  shall  hate  it  all,  and  be  very 
lonely  and  unhappy.  That  is  all.  It  is  not  tragic." 
Yet  it  occurred  to  her  that  what  we  call  tragedy  might 
be,  in  a  certain  sense,  easier  to  bear  nobly,  and  that  in 
all  the  tragedies  she  had  read,  love  and  pain  and  sor 
row  and  danger  seemed  to  strengthen  and  elevate 
souls,  and  even  sin  advanced  with  slow  motions  and 
long  trailing  garments,  and  crime  was  fate,  and  there 
fore  had  its  dignity. 

But  where  was  the  dignity  here  ?  What  was  this 
but  vulgarity,  from  Mousey's  snarls  to  the  countess's 
violence  ?  And  the  circle  she  had  seen  that  day  ? 
What  mattered  it  what  they  called  themselves  ?  How 
were  they  essentially  different  from  the  old  women 
of  the  village  —  gossiping,  suspicious,  unloving,  and 
envious,  yet  smiling  indefatigably  at  one  another  on 
the  market-place? 

And  yet,  —  the  village-folk  —  how  brave  they  were 
and  self-sacrificing  when  Marco's  house  burned  —  how 


154  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

generous  to  his  children  —  how  kind  when  the  tree 
crushed  Karl's  leg,  —  how  they  mourned  when  little 
Paul  died !  "  It  is  I  who  am  unloving  and  arrogant. 
How  do  I  know  what  these  people  here  are  ?  How 
can  I  know  what  good  they  do,  and  what  sorrows  they 
have  ?  The  Frau  Major  is  kind  to  all  the  world,  not 
hard  like  me.  And  Countess  Mercedes  —  has  she  not 
a  thousand  times  more  to  bear  than  I?  Yet  how 
brave  and  gay  she  is ! 

"  And  Aunt  Adelheid  ?  Ah,  when  I  come  to  her,  I 
must  shut  my  eyes  and  go  on  blindly,  for  there  is  no 
comfort  in  seeing  the  path  before  me,  —  except,  we 
are  not  married,  —  it  is  not  forever !  " 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  and  sat  long 
and  motionless  at  the  table.  When  she  looked  lip, 
her  eyes  were  wet,  but  her  mouth  was  resolute. 

She  went  to  close  the  casement.  Along  the  hill 
side  across  the  valley  glimmered  the  remote  scattered 
lights.  "  I  shall  see  them  for  a  long,  long  time  now," 
she  thought.  "  I  shall  learn  to  care  for  them." 

The  heavens  were  brilliant  with  stars.  Into  the 
Silence,  into  the  Unknown  and  Infinite,  her  young 
heart  sent  a  prayer  for  strength  and  patience,  while 
blended  inextricably  with  her  pure  aspiration  was  an 
intense  desire  for  personal  happiness,  and  the  warm 
sustaining  hope  that  the  frowning  and  unpromising 
year  might  yet  have  some  fair  days  in  store  for  her. 

"  At  all  events,  whatever  comes,"  —  and  as  she 
turned  there  was  a  faint  smile  on  her  compressed  lips, 
"  there  never  was  a  Dohna  who  ran  away !  " 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  Countess  Kronfels  had  the  habit  of  writing 
school-girlish  notes,  folding  them  in  ingenious  shapes, 
and  sending  them  on  a  silver  salver  to  inmates  of  her 
household.  Like  some  other  imaginative  works,  they 
were  composed  under  various  animating  influences, 
late  at  night,  and  their  loving-kindness  of  diction  left 
nothing  to  be  desired. 

One  of  these  twisted  missives  reached  Hugo  early 
the  following  morning. 

MY  DEAREST  HUGO,  —  My  love  and  blessings  to 
my  dear  son,  before  I  sleep.  I  must  tell  you  how  you 
can  help  on  a  humane  and  Christian  work.  Send 
some  money  to  the  Frau  Major  for  the  sufferers  at 
Ancona.  Here  is  a  newspaper  slip  describing  the 
accident.  It  is  heartbreaking.  Everybody  is  giving. 
I  gave  a  thousand  marks.  She  depends  upon  you. 
I  really  think,  Hugo,  it  would  look  well,  if  you,  un 
der  the  circumstances,  should  contribute  handsomely. 
Good-night.  God  bless  you.  I  shall  come  to  you 
to-morrow  morning,  and  earlier  than  usual. 

Your  loving  and  faithful  MOTHER. 

Hugo  twisted  the  note  with  vindictive  emphasis,  as 
if  he  would  like  to  wring  its  neck,  then  read  the 
enclosed  newspaper-cutting. 

"  Poor  devils,"  he  muttered.  "  Paper,  Lapps,  and 
a  pencil." 


156  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

MY  DEAR  MAMMA  —  (he  wrote)  —  I  ain  not,  as 
you  know,  philanthropic,  and  I  have  frequently  ex 
pressed  to  you  my  unalterable  decision  never  to  figure 
in  the  Frau  Major's  charity-lists,  where  I,  a  notorious 
black  sheep,  would  surely  be  out  of  place  among  the 
pure  and  righteous.  Since  you  reflect  sufficient  glory 
upon  our  name,  pray  excuse 

Your  affectionate  son,  HUGO. 

"Poor  devils!"  he  repeated,  then  shook  his  head 
as  if  to  free  himself  from  an  unpleasant  thought. 

"  Lipps,"  he  began,  after  a  moment,  "  do  you  think 
you  and  the  others  could  put  me  out  there  by  the  lit 
tle  fountain,  —  out  of  sight  and  hearing,  you  know,  — 
there  behind  the  shrubbery,  at  the  end  of  the  garden, 
where  nobody  goes  ?  " 

Lipps  stoutly  declared  his  ability  to  transport  the 
count  illimitable  distances  provided  he  could  bear  the 
fatigue. 

"  Very  well,  then,"  Hugo  went  on.  "  I  think  I  'd 
like  to  try  it  out  there,  and  as  soon  as  possible,"  look 
ing  at  his  watch,  and  thinking,  "  She  said  earlier  than 
usual,  and  my  note  will  certainly  rouse  her.  She  will 
be  in  a  fine  rage.  A  masterly  retreat  is  often  good 
strategy.  She  may  forget  Ancona  before  to-morrow. 
She  will,  surely,  if  Mousey  has  the  colic,  which  may 
Heaven  precipitate ! " 

"  Lipps,  put  me  out  there  as  soon  as  you  can,  and 
with  as  little  noise  as  possible,  you  understand ;  and 
after,  not  before,  I  'm  established  take  this  note  up  to 
Babette  for  the  countess." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  answered  Lipps,  wisely  looking  foolish. 

The  remote  and  neglected  garden-spot  proved  to  be 
a  very  good  place  for  Hugo.  There  was  almost  no 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  157 

wind  there,  and  the  sun  beat  down  warmly  upon  a 
dense  battalion  of  cedars  and  firs  and  pines,  with 
an  occasional  hemlock  tree  and  a  few  larches.  The 
water  plashed  softly  from  a  bronze  griffin's  mouth  into 
a  stone  basin  with  a  broken,  ivy-grown  moulding,  and 
fragments  of  an  urn,  also  clothed  with  ivy  as  with  a 
garment,  lay  near. 

"  It  is  what  mamma  would  call  '  appropriate,'  v 
thought  Hugo.  "  Decrepit,  —  and  suggesting  dead 
pleasures." 

Lipps  looked  at  him  anxiously. 

"It  is  vastly  entertaining  out  here,"  the  count  said, 
gravely.  "  I  shall  remain  here  some  time.  I  am  con 
vinced  that  I  shall  not  want  to  leave  this  spot,  until 
after  the  carriage  drives  away  this  afternoon.  I  have 
everything,  thanks.  The  books,  writing  block,  and  — 
oh,  Lipps,  just  stand  those  crutches  against  the  foot 
of  my  chair,  will  you?  They'd  better  be  within 
reach.  I  might  want  to  fling  one  at  somebody.  Not 
that  it  would  hurt  him  much,  but  it  might  be  a  relief 
to  me.  You  can  look  after  me  in  a  couple  of  hours, 
Lipps." 

He  lay  so  motionless  that  a  blackbird  hopped  along 
the  path  and  stared  at  him,  and  a  yellow-hammer 
perched  boldly  on  the  white  pine  near  his  head. 

"  Hundreds  of  them,"  he  thought,  —  "  children  too, 
—  poor  little  devils !  " 

He  idly  cut  the  leaves  of  a  new  magazine,  and 
glanced  at  an  article  which  seemed  to  reveal  Napo 
leon  in  a  glare  of  electric  light.  He  held  the  pam 
phlet  loosely,  and  turned  the  pages  with  nervous 
haste.  The  book  fell,  and  as  he  sought  to  recover  it, 
his  abrupt  movement  knocked  it  beyond  his  reach. 
His  interest  in  Napoleon  was  instantly  augmented. 


158  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

He  stretched  his  arm  ineffectually  after  the  magazine, 
which  lay  flat  on  its  face,  tantalizing  and  unattain 
able.  It  seemed  of  immense  importance  to  him  to 
regain  it.  He  exerted  himself  until  he  was  weary, 
then  raised  his  whistle,  paused,  and  let  it  drop. 

"  No,  I  won't  call  him.  The  man  ought  to  have  an 
instant  to  breathe.  I  should  think  he  'd  feel  as  if  he 
were  chained  to  a  corpse." 

Once  more  he  stretched  his  arm  to  the  utmost,  but 
Napoleon  refused  to  be  captured.  Slowly  and  with 
difficulty,  the  invalid  secured  a  crutch,  and  tried  to 
rake  up  the  book  with  it,  but  his  strength  failed,  the 
crutch  dropped,  and  he  sank  back  with  a  sigh. 

Suddenly  he  heard  a  sound  as  of  a  substantial 
weight  dropping  on  two  feet,  followed  by  steps  behind 
his  chair,  and  saw  first  a  hand  and  workingmaii's 
sleeve,  then  the  being  to  whom  they  belonged,  a  tall, 
large  man,  with  a  paper  cap,  brown  smiling  eyes,  a 
long  curling  beard,  and  a  whitish  blouse  reaching 
nearly  to  his  heels. 

He  silently  gave  Hugo  the  magazine,  and  stood 
looking  down  upon  him  like  a  gentle  giant. 

"  Thank  you,"  began  the  count,  regarding  him  curi 
ously.  "This  is  unexpected  good  luck.  I  hope  it 
will  not  seem  ungrateful,  if  I  venture  to  inquire  how 
you  happened  to  observe  my  predicament." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  returned  the  man  placidly.  "  I  was 
looking  over  the  hedge." 

"  Oh,"  said  Hugo  dryly,  reflecting :  "  As  there  is 
literally  nothing  to  see  here  but  a  wall  of  green, 
he  was  looking  for  somebody.  '  I,  too,  have  been  in 
Acadia.' " 

The  stranger  stood  in  the  strong  sunshine  which 
brought  out  reddish  gleams  in  his  dark  beard.  His 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  159 

large,  kind  gaze  met  Hugo's  squarely,  and  the  count 
found  the  simplicity  and  repose  of  his  presence  singu 
larly  attractive. 

"  I  am  glad  that  you  were  looking  over  the  hedge," 
Hugo  continued  after  a  moment,  adding  to  himself, 
"whatever  brought  you,  and  it's  probably  that  rosy 
last  one.  No  man  would  look  twice  at  any  of  the  oth 
ers.  Mamma  selects  frights  on  principle.  She  as 
sumes  that  ugly  women  are  more  virtuous  than  pretty 
ones.  Now  I  never  observed  that  there  was  any  par 
ticular  difference." 

"You  took  a  handspring  from  the  fence  outside," 
he  remarked,  noting  the  powerful  figure  and  repress 
ing  a  sigh. 

"  Yes,  and  I  am  mighty  sorry  you  can't  do  the  same, 
Count  Kronfels." 

"  He  is  the  first  person  who  has  spoken  to  me  as  if 
I  were  still  a  man,"  Hugo  realized  with  surprise. 
"To  the  doctors  I  am  a  'case.'  To  Lipps  I  am  a 
fetich.  While  my  pious  mamma  thinks  I  ought  to 
spiritualize  myself  into  a  holy  example  for  ungodly 
lieutenants.  Raven  was  evidently  afraid  of  me.  This 
fellow  is  refreshing." 

"  You  know  me,  then  ?  " 

"Why  not?  Everybody  knows  the  count,  and  is 
sorry  for  him,"  replied  the  giant,  in  his  deliberate 
and  gentle  manner. 

"  Ah,  I  had  not  thought  of  that,"  rejoined  Hugo 
again  with  surprise. 

"It  is  good  for  the  count  to  be  out  in  the  sun 
shine,"  the  other  said  with  a  strikingly  sweet  and 
cordial  smile,  his  gaze  wandering  slowly  from  the  in 
valid  to  the  trees  and  the  bare  but  budding  pushing 
shrubs. 


160  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"Do  you  think  so?  Then  I  must  come  often. 
You  look  as  if  you  knew  what  is  good  for  people." 

The  man  laughed. 

"I  don't  know  much,"  he  rejoined,  his  handsome 
brown  face  untroubled  and  vastly  content. 

"  Would  you  have  the  kindness  to  move  my  chair  a 
little  ?  "  Hugo  asked,  with  a  sudden  desire  to  make  use 
of  this  big  man's  gentle  strength.  "  The  sun  will  be 
in  my  eyes  soon." 

Chair  and  invalid  were  instantly  seized,  lifted,  and 
softly  replaced. 

"  You  are  very  kind  —  and  strong." 

"  Yes,  I  'm  strong,"  returned  the  other  cheerfully, 
"  and  I  'd  like  to  do  anything  I  could  for  you,  count," 
again  unhesitatingly  accentuating  the  contrast  between 
them,  his  clear  eyes  shining  with  benevolence. 

"  I  like  the  fellow,"  decided  Hugo. 

"  I  ought  to  go  now." 

"Oh,  must  you?"  Hugo  rejoined  with  regret. 
"  Good-by,  then.  Perhaps  you  '11  be  looking  over 
the  hedge  again  some  day." 

The  man  had  sauntered  on  a  few  steps.  He  now 
returned.  "I  ought  to  tell  you,  count,"  he  began, 
4  that  there  's  no  harm  in  it." 

"  Of  course  not,"  Hugo  replied  dryly,  adding  with 
a  touch  of  his  careless  lieutenant-manner,  "it  can't 
hurt  the  hedge." 

"  There 's  a  girl  in  your  house,"  continued  the  other 
steadily,  "  the  best  girl  in  the  world  —  and  I  'm  going 
to  marry  her." 

Hugo  held  out  his  hand  quickly,  regretting  his 
worldliness.  "  Oh,  that 's  it,  is  it  ?  Then  I  wish  you 

joy-" 

"  Why  not  ?  "  was  the  curious  response,  with  a  shy 
and  happy  smile. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  161 

The  long  thin  hand  with  prominent  veins  lay  in 
the  large  brown  palm.  The  strong  man  regarded  the 
emaciated  fingers  attentively,  and  said  with  infinite 
gentleness  :  — 

"  It  could  n't  do  much  hard  work,  count." 

"  No,"  Hugo  returned  quietly,  "  it  is  not  a  danger 
ous  fist.  It  would  n't  intimidate  a  burglar." 

"  Or  even  handle  a  chisel  and  a  mallet,"  added  the 
other. 

"  You  are  a  stone-carver,  then.     I  presumed  so." 

"  Yes,  I  carry  my  trade  about  with  me,  like  a  mil 
ler,"  brushing  the  fine  white  dust  from  his  beard. 
"  My  name  is  Bernhard  Dietz." 

"  What  are  you  working  on,  now  ?  "  asked  Hugo, 
inclined  to  prolong  the  interview. 

"  I  'm  to  do  all  the  windows  and  doors,  that  is,  the 
brackets  and  cornices,  on  both  houses.  I  'm  on  the 
oriel-window  now.  You  ought  to  see  that.  That 's  a 
rich  design." 

"  Oh,  you  are  the  singer,"  Hugo  said  quickly. 

"Why  not?"  Bernhard  admitted  with  his  gentle 
upward  inflection.  "  No,"  he  continued,  "  there  's  not 
much  carving  like  that  window  in  Wynburg.  The 
people  economize  too  much.  In  London  there  is 
some  good  work.  But  the  stone  is  harder  there." 

"  Ah,  you  have  been  in  London  ?  " 

"Yes,  —  but  I  had  to  hurry  back,"  Dietz  replied, 
with  a  soft,  shy  look  which  he  wore  now  and  then. 
"  The  men  have  taken  their  beer,  count." 

"  But  you  will  come  again  ?  "  begged  Hugo. 

"Why  not?"  returned  the  stone-carver,  with  his 
serene  smile,  as  if  visiting  lame  counts  in  wheel 
chairs  had  been  his  inveterate  habit  from  childhood, 

Hugo  listened  for  the  thump  of  feet  on  the  other 


162  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

side  of  the  hedge,  and  shortly  after,  when  he  heard 
above  the  noisy  work  011  wood  and  iron  and  stone, 
and  the  clanking  chains  and  men's  calls,  Bernhard's 
glad  voice  soaring  strong  and  free  on  wings  of  song, 
the  lame  man's  mood,  if  sad,  was  yet  without  the 
fierce  protest  of  the  previous  day. 

"  That  fellow  has  common  sense.  I  should  like  to 
talk  with  him  about  those  Ancona  people.  4Why 
not  ?  '  as  he  says.  I  should  like  to  do  something  for 
those  children,  if  there  is  any  way  to  reach  them  with 
out  getting  into  the  clutches  of  the  fashionable  phi 
lanthropists,  like  Frau  Funnel  &  Co.  I  am  too  un- 
regenerate  to  work  amiably  with  the  professionals.  I 
don't  know  the  ropes  in  the  benevolent  line,  and  my 
idea  is  deucedly  irregular,  I  presume,  but  I  am  tolera 
bly  clear  as  to  what  I  would  like  to  do.  For  instance, 
an  airy,  sunny  house  for  the  smashed  infants,  good 
doctors  of  course,  and  I  suppose  that  necessitates  a 
kind  of  hospital  stiffness  at  first ;  but  when  the  poor 
little  souls  are  well,  —  that  is  to  say,  well  like  me,  — 
incurable  cripples,  then  what  ?  Well,  a  good  big  gar 
den,  hammocks  and  cushioned  chairs,  and  pretty  soft- 
voiced  women  —  I  suppose  there  may  be  such  women 
—  in  Italy!  yes,  decidedly,  pretty  women  —  I  won't 
have  an  ugly  one  in  the  house,"  making  a  note  of  this 
regulation  ;  "  and  music," —  Dietz  was  whistling  frag 
ments  of  Carmen  with  the  swing  of  a  whole  orchestra, 
and  catching  up  a  refrain  with  his  great  voice,  flung 
Escamillo's  sentiments  in  triumph  over  all  the  neigh 
borhood,  —  "  yes,  certainly,"  noting  music.  "  Hm,"  he 
muttered,  reading  his  notes  with  a  queer  smile.  "  I 
don't  suppose  they  would  call  this  practical.  I  must 
talk  with  the  consul.  I  could  do  the  thing  well 
enough,  I  should  say,  for  less  than  I  have  always 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  163 

paid  for  extra  horses,  cards,  and  champagne  suppers. 
Though  to  be  sure  no  man  knows  less  than  I  the  cost 
of  a  virtuous  action.  So  far  as  I  can  recollect,  I 
never  performed  one  in  my  life." 

He  jotted  down  a  few  more  notes,  then  under  the 
condition  of  profound  secrecy  imparted  to  the  Italian 
consul  some  of  his  ideas  and  requested  an  interview. 
The  pencilled  letter,  written  in  good  faith  and  without 
circumlocution,  produced  a  singular  effect  upon  the 
gentleman  who  finally  received  it.  His  face  as  he  read 
expressed  violent  surprise,  and  he  had  a  suspicion 
that  somebody  was  playing  a  practical  joke  upon  him, 
after  which  he  laughed  heartily,  but  kindly,  and  at 
last  had  no  desire  to  laugh,  but  looked  thoughtful, 
took  out  his  handkerchief,  flourished  it  largely,  and 
furtively  wiped  his  eyes.  "  He  begs  me  to  come  as 
early  as  half-past  eight,  that  we  may  not  be  disturbed. 
I  presume  they  are  doing  something  the  whole  day  to 
amuse  the  poor  fellow.  And  no  wonder,  cut  off  from 
everything,  and  a  heart  like  that !  " 

Meanwhile  the  letter,  unfinished,  lay  on  Hugo's 
block,  and  he  was  looking  doubtful  over  his  plan. 
How  a  lieutenant  of  dragoons  feels  when  he  sees  an 
indefinite  future  of  iiivalidism  stretching  on  before 
him,  he  knew  but  too  well;  but  how  children,  little 
children,  the  children  of  laborers  would  feel  and  what 
would  make  them  happiest,  he  could  only  vaguely  im 
agine.  "  Dietz  would  know,"  he  thought.  "  I  wish  I 
had  asked  him  to  come  in  again  to-day." 

"  If  I  do  this  thing,"  he  mused,  with  a  curiously 
defiant  look,  "it  is  simply  because  I  wish  to.  It  is  not 
to  pave  my  way  into  the  next  world,  if  there  is  any. 
It  is  not  to  make  my  accounts  look  better  before  I  go. 
It  is  my  whim,  like  any  other,  and  I  won't  have  it 


164  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

credited  to  me  like  a  death-bed  repentance.  I  '11  take 
my  chances  over  the  border  as  I  have  lived,"  he  mut 
tered  doggedly. 

Lipps  appeared  with  a  glass  of  wine  and  water  and 
some  biscuit. 

u  I  am  very  comfortable,  Lipps,  and  I  don't  want 
anything  except  to  stand  a  moment.  Help  me  to 
ground  —  crutches  !  —  will  you  ?  " 

He  stood  a  few  minutes,  and  with  great  exertion 
and  fatigue  walked  two  or  three  steps. 

"  It  is  no  use,"  he  murmured,  his  face  contracting 
with  pain. 

But  Lipps,  laying  him  back  on  his  cushions,  lift 
ing  his  feet  and  covering  him  well,  declared  unblush- 
ingly  that  there  was  striking  improvement  and  soon 
the  count  would  be  walking  off  as  strong  as  anybody ; 
whereupon  the  servant  stood  looking  very  mournful, 
his  face  working  as  if  on  the  verge  of  tears. 

"  If  you  tell  so  many  lies  you  will  go  to  a  very  hot 
place,"  the  count  said  faintly. 

The  servant  protested  that  he  could  only  say  what 
he  believed,  which  was  that  the  count  would  be  on  his 
feet  in  no  time,  walking  and  riding  and  dancing,  as 
gay  as  a  lark ;  and  here  the  man  gave  an  unmistaka 
ble  sob. 

"  I  don't  wonder  that  such  a  big  one  as  that  chokes 
you,"  Hugo  remarked  with  a  kind  smile.  "  Come, 
Lipps  ;  never  mind  me.  I  am  tired  of  that  subject 
morning,  noon,  and  night.  I  want  to  ask  you  some 
thing.  Suppose  you  were  a  little  fellow,  and  some 
thing  should  fall  upon  you,  and  you  couldn't  run 
about  any  more  —  could  n't  work  or  play  —  like  me, 
in  short  —  what  would  you  want  ?  What  could  any 
body  do  to  make  things  more  decent  for  you  ?  " 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  165 

Lipps  was  thrown  into  utter  confusion. 

"  Surely  the  count  knows  best." 

"  Don't  be  idiotic." 

"Surely  the  count  is  not  asking  me  for  my 
thoughts  ?  " 

"  Yes  I  am." 

Lipps  was  red  with  embarrassment. 

"  Out  with  it !  "  Hugo  urged.  "  I  perceive  there  is 
an  idea  in  your  head,  struggling  to  free  itself." 

"Well,"  faltered  Lipps  as  if  confessing  a  crime, 
"  if  I  was  a  little  chap,  and  lame,  —  and  on  my  back, 
the  count  means  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  Hugo  said  impatiently. 

"  I  think  I  'd  like  a  big  red  balloon  with  a  long 
string  better  than  anything  in  the  world.  I  always 
wanted  one  and  never  had  it,"  he  admitted  with  a 
childish  grin,  recalling  years  of  fruitless  longing. 

"Good  heavens,  man!  "  began  Hugo,  staring;  then 
gravely,  "  It  is  a  very  good  idea,  Lipps.  Thank  you. 
And  what  else  ?  " 

Lipps  grew  bolder. 

"  Does  the  count  allow  me  to  say  anything  ?  " 

"  Anything  and  everything.  Let  your  imagination 
run  riot.  Fire  away.  Let  us  have  something  extrav 
agant." 

"  Well,  then,  meat  once  in  two  days,  and  a  bit  of 
sweet  custard  Sundays.  There  !  " 

Hugo  was  silent  some  moments. 

"  Is  that  your  idea  of  bliss  ?  "  he  asked  at  length, 
and  with  peculiar  gentleness. 

"  Poor  children  don't  get  meat  and  custard,"  Lipps 
explained  timidly.  "  In  service  of  course  a  man  eats 
well ;  but  I  almost  never  saw  meat  when  I  was  a  boy, 
and  I  remember  it." 


166  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  What  a  selfish  brute  I  have  been  all  my  life," 
thought  Hugo,  scrupulously  noting  on  his  extraor 
dinary  list,  "  balloons,  light  toys,  and  plenty  of  meat 
and  sweets." 

The  servant  watched  him  wonderingly. 

"  I  know  no  such  boy,"  the  count  said,  answering 
the  question  in  the  man's  eyes,  "  I  am  only  amusing 
myself." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  Lipps  returned  cheerfully.  "  I  did  n't 
think  there  was  one  round  here.  But  if  there  was 
any  such  child,  and  he  had  a  balloon,  and  meat  and 
custard,  he  ought  to  be  happy  and  no  mistake." 

"Happy!    Why?" 

"  Because  it  is  more  than  such  as  he  has  any  right 
to  expect,  or  ever  would  expect." 

Again  Hugo  stared  at  him. 

"  Oh,  it  is,  is  it  ?  That  will  do,  Lipps.  You  have 
answered  very  well.  Thank  you  —  and  you  can  go 
now." 

The  morning  advanced.  The  sun  grew  warmer, 
the  balsamic  odors  heavier.  Hugo  was  occupied  with 
his  scheme.  Now  and  then  he  would  jot  down  an 
item  with  an  ironical  smile.  The  soft  plash  of  the  lit 
tle  fountain  sounded  pleasant  to  him.  The  children 
should  have  one.  "  Meat  once  in  two  days  and  sweet 
custard  Sunday.  And  the  rivers  of  champagne  I 
have  drunk!"  The  bells  and  whistles  and  general 
pandemonium  announced  high  noon.  The  men 
knocked  off  work  with  admirable  promptness,  he  no 
ticed.  Presently  he  heard  a  welcome  voice  :  — 

"  Shall  I  come  over,  count  ?  " 

"  Ah,  do  !  "  Hugo  called  eagerly. 

"  I  only  thought  that  I  'd  see  if  you  were  still  there 
—  or  tired,  or  anything,"  Dietz  began,  standing  again 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  167 

by  the  chair.  "  It  must  be  lonely  for  you,  count,  since 
you  are  too  weak  to  do  anything  with  your  hands  — 
except  write  a  little,  or  hold  a  book." 

"  I  might  take  up  knitting,"  retorted  Hugo  soberly. 

Dietz  smiled. 

"  It  would  n't  be  the  worst  thing  for  you  perhaps, 
but  there  might  be  something  better." 

"  What  would  you  propose  ?  " 

"  I  should  have  to  consider,  —  for  a  man  like  you." 

"  Well,  then,  not  for  a  man  like  me.  Wait.  You 
don't  look  as  if  you  would  chatter." 

"  No,  I  don't  believe  I  do." 

Still  Hugo  hesitated.  He  felt  curiously  shy,  and 
dreaded,  above  all  things,  being  suspected  of  what 
he  called  "  posing  "  for  charity  and  benevolence,  but 
something  in  Dietz's  eyes  gave  him  confidence,  and  at 
last  he  muttered  somewhat  grimly  :  — 

"  If  there  were  children,  mangled  —  made  useless, 
like  me  —  workingmen's  children  "  — 

"  Is  it  a  fancy  of  yours,"  asked  Dietz,  "  or  is  it 
true?" 

"  It  is  true." 

"  That  is  a  pity." 

"  And  I  would  like  to  do  something  for  them." 

"  Of  course." 

"  I  am  awkward  and  blundering  about  it.  I  don't 
know  anything  about  such  children." 

"How  should  you,  count?"  rejoined  Bernhard, 
gently. 

"But  you  do?" 

"  Yes,  because  I  was  one  of  them.  My  parents 
were  poor  as  crows  when  I  was  a  boy." 

"  Will  you  glance  at  these  things  for  me,"  and  Hugo 
abruptly  thrust  his  letter  and  notes  toward  Dietz. 


168  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Bernhard  read  them  slowly,  and  his  face  was  calm 
and  benign  as  an  angel's  as  he  turned  to  Hugo. 

"  You  mean  to  do  that  ?  All  that  ?  You  are  a  for 
tunate  man  to  have  the  power  to  do  a  thing  like  that." 

Fortunate  !  Hugo  looked  up  sharply,  and  was  about 
to  reply  with  bitterness,  but  meeting  Bernhard's  tran 
quil  gaze,  asked  instead :  — 

"  What  would  you  suggest?  " 

Dietz  answered  reflectively :  — • 

"  Schooling.  Some  of  them  could  bear  it,  and  the 
others  would  like  to  listen.  Light  work,  for  it 's  a 
comfort  to  move  the  hands  and  know  one  is  useful. 
That 's  what  I  was  thinking  when  I  saw  your  hands  so 
white  and  still  on  that  red  plush.  There  are  many 
children?" 

"  A  great  many,  yes." 

"  I  'd  have  them  learn  to  draw.  Some  would  have 
talent,  and  that  would  be  a  comfort.  I  'd  have  them 
taught  a  little  music.  Many  of  them  would  like  that 
best.  Some  will  be  strong  enough  to  go  out  into  the 
world  later.  Others  won't.  Well,  that's  not  your 
affair.  But  such  things  would  keep  them  good  in 
spite  of  pain." 

"  Good  ?  I  don't  care  a  straw  whether  they  are 
good  or  not,"  Hugo  retorted  with  some  heat.  "  I  only 
want  to' make  them  a  little  happier,  if  possible." 

"It  is  about  the  same  thing,  isn't  it?"  Bernhard 
said  tranquilly. 

"  If  they  draw,"  Hugo  resumed  after  some  mo 
ments,  "they  ought  to  have  good  things  to  look  at, 
ought  they  not?  Pictures  and  busts?" 

"  Yes,  not  too  many,  but  good.  Drawing  will  be  a 
comfort  to  them.  It  makes  the  men  happier  in  the 
prisons." 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  1<:>9 

"The  prisons?" 

"  My  professor  has  taught  drawing  in  the  prisons 
Sundays  for  ten  years.  He  has  discovered  talent 
that  the  men  never  suspected.  There  was  a  young 
fellow  of  twenty,  a  murderer,  who  had  never  drawn 
a  stroke.  I  wish  you  could  see  the  heads  he  did  after 
six  months'  training.  They  were  masterly  work,  and 
uUl  of  feeling." 

"  A  murderer  ?  A  murderer,  do  you  say  ?  "  repeated 
Hugo. 

"  You  lieutenants  don't  call  a  duel  murder,  do  you  ? 
Yet  that  is  planned.  His  sin  was  one  hot  moment. 
He  had  had  too  much  wine  and  he  was  jealous.  Mur 
der  is  an  ugly  word.  This  man  was  quiet  and  gentle 
and  drew  all  day  long — things  the  master  gave  him, 
things  that  he  remembered.  The  king  shortened  his 
life-sentence  to  ten  years,  and  now  he  has  gone  to 
America  to  start  fresh.  I  was  glad  that  he  got  an 
other  chance.  There  are  good  hearts  in  the  prisons," 
Dietz  went  on  thoughtfully.  "  There  are  bad  ones  all 
around  us  that  never  are  found  out.  There  is  some 
thing  queer  in  that." 

Hugo  looked  at  him  in  astonishment. 

"  Do  you  go  into  the  prisons  ?  " 

"  I  help  my  professor  a  little  now  and  then,"  Dietz 
answered  modestly.  "  I  am  mighty  sorry  for  them," 
he  added.  "  But  I  must  go  and  eat  my  dinner  now," 
he  announced.  "  I  '11  be  thinking  of  your  plan.  It  is 
a  blessed  kind  of  plan,  count.  I  '11  ask  some  of  the 
men,  if  you  will  let  me,  —  some  of  the  level-headed 
ones.  I  will  put  the  case  imaginary,  of  course.  Men 
with  children  might  know  best,  —  though  I  hope  to 
have  some  of  my  own,  some  day,  please  God  —  and 
a  man  can  think  beforehand." 


170  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Will  you  come  in  to-morrow  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  "  Dietz  said.  "  I  'd  be  pleased  to  come 
often  and  talk  with  you,  count,"  and  he  smiled  his 
smile  of  peace  and  good-will,  moved  Hugo's  chair 
slightly,  re-covered  his  feet,  and  walked  off,  humming 
as  he  went. 

He  was  scarcely  gone  when  Lipps,  standing  as  for 
mally  by  a  lilac-bush  as  if  it  were  a  door  to  be  closed 
behind  a  guest,  ushered  in  von  Raven. 

"  Good-morning.     Surprised,  eh  ?  " 

"I  am,  rather." 

"  Riding  by  again.  Thought  I  'd  find  you.  Ajax 
pulls  like  Lucifer.  Warm  noon." 

"  Sit  down,  Lorenz.  There  ought  to  be  a  rustic 
chair  somewhere  in  the  next  path  if  you  will  take  the 
trouble  to  find  it.  I  have  not  realized  my  attractive 
ness,  consequently  my  audience-chamber  looks  some 
what  inhospitable." 

"  Oh,  I  '11  stand,  thanks." 

Hugo  said  nothing. 

"  It 's  a  warm  noon,"  remarked  the  visitor  again. 

"  Very,  for  the  season,"  returned  Hugo  politely, 
thinking,  "  Now  he  never  came  in  here  to  tell  me 
that." 

"  I  say,  Hugo,"  von  Raven  began  after  considerable 
hesitation.  "  Saw  your  cousin  yesterday." 

"Ah?" 

"Did  she  tell  you?" 

Hugo  contemplated  him  silently  before  replying : 

"  No,  I  have  n't  heard  her  say  anything  about  you." 

Von  Raven  looked  slightly  crestfallen. 

"  Talked  with  her  some  time.  Thought  she  might 
mention  it.  But  girls  are  queer." 

"  They  are,"  said  Hugo,  staring  at  the  sky. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  171 

"  Beautiful  girl,  eh,  Hugo  ?  " 

"  I  can't  say  that  I  agree  with  you." 

"  Oh,  come  now !  " 

"  Nor  am  I  prepared  to  call  her  the  reverse,"  Hugo 
added  in  a  judicial  tone. 

u  Don't  mind  telling  you.  I  'm  struck.  I  'm  gone. 
Nothing  left  of  me." 

"  Ah,  but  that  happens  so  often !  " 

"  Not  like  this,"  von  Raven  protested.  "  Never 
saw  anybody  like  her.  Beats  Countess  Mercedes  at 
eyes,  and  can  gi,ve  her  points  on  figure.  All  of  ours 
are  talking  of  her." 

u  Indeed.     That 's  quick  work." 

"  I  believe  you !  Sensation,  I  tell  you.  Acknow 
ledged  beauty." 

Hugo  knew  what  a  sensation  in  Wynburg  meant. 
He  could  scarcely  reconcile  it  with  those  sad,  slow 
footsteps  which  he  had  heard  at  midnight.  Von 
Raven's  florid,  heated  face  was  turned  eagerly  toward 
him.  He  could  not  have  told  what  wearied  and  irri 
tated  him,  as  he  involuntarily  compared  the  baron 
with  the  stone-carver  who  had  stood  a  few  moments 
before  in  the  same  place. 

"  Want  to  take  her  out  on  Jenny.  Haller  means 
to  be  along  to-day.  Got  the  start  of  him.  Jenny  is 
a  better  mare  than  Sylphide." 

"  Well? "  said  Hugo  coldly. 

"  Thought  of  you." 

"You  thought  what?"  demanded  Hugo  with  a 
frown. 

"No  end  of  opportunity.  Chatting.  Reading. 
Sisterly  attention,"  von  Raven  went  on  with  an  empty 
little  laugh,  sketching  with  unusual  play  of  imagina 
tion  Hugo's  helplessness  and  harmlessness. 


172  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Good  word,  now  and  then.  Advice.  Influence, 
you  know." 

He  whipped  his  boot  with  his  riding-stick  and  looked 
tolerably  sure  of  his  results. 

Hugo  scowled  steadily,  resenting  Raven's  confi 
dences,  his  appeal,  for  the  moment  even  his  careless 
and  satisfied  existence. 

"  The  governor  wants  me  to  marry.  Mamma  is 
always  at  me.  A  man  must,  sooner  or  later.  She 
pleases  me,"  he  concluded,  with  the  lordly  simplicity 
of  a  three-tailed  pasha. 

"  Thought  you  would  help  a  fellow,"  he  added,  sur 
prised  at  Hugo's  silence. 

"Well,  I  won't." 

"  Oh,  come  now  !  "  von  Raven  returned  good-hu- 
moredly.  "  Old  comrade.  Yes,  you  will.  Why 
won't  you?" 

"  I  am  not  a  match-maker,"  Hugo  growled.  "  I 
leave  that  trade  to  women." 

"  Oh,  you  will  do  a  friend  a  good  turn,"  laughed 
von  Raven.  "  Know  you.  But  how  about  Jenny  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  Fraulein  von  Dohna's  tastes  suffi 
ciently  to  answer  for  her,"  Hugo  rejoined  very  for 
mally,  "  but  if  she  wishes  to  ride,  of  course  we  shall 
provide  her  mount." 

"Merely  thought  you  wouldn't  have  anything  in 
the  stables  just  now  "  — 

"It  is  deucedly  obliging  on  your  part,  Lorenz,  to 
be  looking  after  the  condition  of  my  stables  "  — 

"  And  I  thought  Jenny  would  suit." 

"Jenny  won't  do." 

"  She  's  light  on  the  bit,  and  "  — 

"  She  won't  suit  Fraulein  von  Dohna,"  Hugo  said 
angrily. 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  173 

It  occurred  to  von  Raven  that  he  would  do  well  to 
lead  Jenny  out  of  the  conversation,  also  that  he  could 
ride  with  the  young  lady  whether  his  horse  or  Hugo's 
had  the  honor  of  carrying  her. 

"  Splendid  figure,"  he  exclaimed.  "  Don't  you  say 
so?" 

"  I  have  nothing  whatever  to  say  about  it." 

"  But  her  eyes,  Hugo  !  You  can't  remain  cold  to 
those  eyes." 

"  I  have  no  difficulty  thus  far." 

"  You  are  in  no  end  of  a  mood.  Never  mind.  No 
harm  done.  By  the  way,  Frau  von  Funnel 's  getting 
up  bazaar.  Ancona  sufferers.  Wants  Fraulein  von 
Dohna.  Gypsy  encampment.  Hair  down.  All  that 
sort  of  thing.  Decided  after  ladies  left  yesterday. 
Entrance  fee.  Raffles.  Mayers,  flower-girls.  Dance 
afterwards.  Your  cousin  will  join  ?  " 

"  If  she  wishes  to  exhibit  her  hair  and  waltz  in 
pity  for  the  Ancona  cripples,  —  yes." 

"  The  Frau  Major  thought  you  'd  be  interested. 
Take  some  shares." 

"  She  was  mistaken.     I  am  not  interested." 

"  The  devil !  You  are  joking.  No  shares  ?  Char 
ity  ?  Benevolence  ?  " 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort." 

Von  Raven  stared,  wondering  if  free-handed  Hugo 
had  grown  parsimonious,  but  excused  him  on  the  plea 
of  illness. 

"  Well,  old  fellow,  can't  quarrel  with  you.  Good-by. 
I  '11  come  again." 

"  Come  when  I  'm  in  a  better  temper,"  Hugo  said 
with  a  smile,  putting  out  his  hand. 

"  Oh,  that 's  all  right,"  von  Raven  hastened  to 
reply.  "My  compliments  to  the  ladies.  By  Jove, 


174  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

there 's  a  pretty  girl !  Saw  us  and  started  back. 
White  apron." 

"  One  of  the  maids,"  Hugo  returned  indifferently. 

"  Fresh  as  a  peach,  whatever  she  is,  neat,  like  saucy 
little  stage-maid,"  and  the  lieutenant  peered  through 
the  shrubbery. 

As  he  strode  through  the  garden,  silly  Roschen  took 
pains  to  cross  his  path.  He  put  up  his  monocle, 
stared  at  her,  smiled  like  a  coxcomb,  twirled  his 
mustache,  turned  and  watched  her  walk  away.  Her 
foolish  heart  beat  fast,  and  she  scarcely  thought  of 
anything  but  that  splendid  vision  for  days,  finding 
the  gentle  giant  in  his  blouse  tiresome  after  so  much 
blue-and-silver  and  high-boots. 

"  It  must  have  been  Roschen,"  thought  Hugo,  — 
"  tripping  to  the  trysting-place,  which  I  have  cruelly 
usurped.  No  doubt  she 's  disappointed.  But  there 
are  always  snug  corners  for  fond  lovers.  They  won't 
suffer." 

He  lay  still  with  his  eyes  closed.  He  was  exceed 
ingly  weary  and  could  no  longer  think  quietly  of  his 
new  scheme.  Yon  Raven  had  put  him  completely  out 
of  tune,  with  chatter  of  hair  and  figures  and  eyes  and 
Heaven  knew  what.  "  I  don't  know  why  he  set  me  on 
edge.  The  man  is  not  to  blame  for  being  well  and  en 
joying  himself.  But  I  wanted  to  swear  at  him.  Let 
Frau  von  Funnel,  or  somebody  whose  back  doesn't 
ache,  take  care  of  the  little  cripples.  Let  pretty 
girls  dance  and  flirt  and  show  their  long  hair  for  the 
little  wretches.  Nobody  needs  me." 

All  was  quiet  near  him.  Now  and  then  the  breeze 
stirred  the  twigs,  or  a  bird  chirped.  He  heard  foot 
steps,  and  the  rustle  of  bushes. 

"  It 's  that  girl  .again.     If  mamma  sees  her  haunting 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  175 

this  part  of  the  garden,  when  not  escorting  Mousey, 
she  '11  be  discharged.  I  wish  they  would  all  leave  me 
in  peace  —  still  —  Roschen,"  he  called,  "  Rosehen !  " 

The  person  behind  him  stepped  back  quickly,  as  if 
anxious  to  retreat,  then  paused,  and  at  length  replied : 

"It  is  not  Roschen." 

Coming  forward,  she  stood  beside  his  chair,  and 
said,  looking  down  upon  him  gravely :  — 

"  I  am  Gabrielle  von  Dohna." 


CHAPTER  XL 

GABRIELLE  soon  found  that  her  only  free  time  was 
early  in  the  morning.  After  the  countess  appeared, 
the  young  girl  came  and  went  under  stricter  subjec 
tion  than  Babette  and  Roschen,  whose  lax  consciences 
allowed  them  subterfuges  and  tricks  to  gain  odd  mo 
ments  now  and  then.  Every  day  at  lunch  the  countess 
dilated  upon  her  own  ailments  and  Mousey 's.  Every 
day  she  fulminated  at  the  butler  and  threatened  to 
discharge  the  cook.  She  never  by  any  accident  con 
sulted  Gabrielle's  pleasure,  or  asked  if  she  had  a  choice 
of  occupation.  "  We  are  going  to  drive  at  three,"  she 
would  say ;  "  wear  your  gray,  and  don't  keep  me  wait 
ing.  I  was  educated  to  be  punctual,  above  all  to  show 
some  deference  to  my  superiors.". 

At  first,  Gabrielle,  surprised  and  ready  to  justify 
herself,  would  answer  :  — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  have  I  ever  kept"  you  wait 
ing  ?  "  But  she  speedily  grasped  the  portentous  fact 
that  what  she  had  done  or  left  undone,  what  she  was 
or  was  not,  had  not  the  remotest  connection  with  the 
countess's  insinuations.  It  was  impossible  to  know 
what  was  wise  and  right  to  reply.  The  slightest 
attempt  at  self-justification  would  irritate  her  pro 
foundly,  silence  made  her  furious,  while  an  amiable 
effort  to  change  the  theme  was  apt  to  fan  her  wrath 
to  a  white  heat. 

It  is  easy  to  call  a  temper,  colossal  in  its  violence, 
a  weakness.  When  one  is  exposed  to  its  cruelties,  it 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  177 

has  the  effect  of  huge  and  brutal  strength.  Gabrielle 
was  frequently  wretched,  indignant,  outraged.  Accus 
tomed  to  exceptional  freedom,  she  felt  the  indignity  of 
her  position  more  keenly  than  a  less  spirited  girl,  or 
one  more  docile  to  worldly  training.  She  made  many 
mistakes,  had  too  little  tact  and  wisdom  with  the  sur 
prising  old  lady  who  could  open  fire  on  all  sides  at  once 
and  was  capable  not  alone  of  malicious  spurts  but  of 
sustained  and  dangerous  hostility.  Whatever  Ga 
brielle  did  or  said,  she  always  had  reason  to  wish  that 
it  had  been  something  different.  In  spite  of  the  con 
stant  overthrow  of  her  calculations,  she  would  ingen 
uously  work  out  problems  by  which  she  hoped  to  attain 
to  reasonably  pleasant  intercourse  with  the  countess  ; 
and  every  evening,  honestly  reviewing  the  day  and  call 
ing  herself  strictly  to  account,  she  would  create  con 
versations  in  which  the  suavity  and  sense  of  her  own 
remarks  induced  refreshing  cordiality  on  the  part  of 
Aunt  Adelheid.  Thus  equipped,  the  young  girl 
would  go  forth  to  meet  the  exigencies  of  the  morrow 
with  hope  and  courage.  But  the  countess's  response 
was  invariably  all  things  else  rather  than  what  Gabri- 
elle's  imagination  and  buoyant  hopefulness  had  antici 
pated,  and  she  was  at  last  forced  to  sorrowfully  admit 
that  not  patience,  not  undaunted  cheerfulness,  and  not 
vigilance,  could  prevent  the  Countess  Kronfels'  rages, 
or  ward  off  her  missiles. 

Meanwhile  the  handsome  old  lady  and  the  charming 
young  girl  drove  in  and  out  of  the  great  gates,  went 
shopping,  paid  visits,  and  presented  to  the  world  an 
attractive  picture  of  serene  age  and  youthful  grace, 
of  kindly  family-life  and  sympathetic  companionship. 
The  people  sauntering  past  the  villa  had  the  naive 
habit  of  standing  and  gazing  at  anything  that  pleased 


178  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

them.  When  the  Wynburg  folk  went  out  for  a  stroll, 
it  took  its  pleasures  simply,  but  it  took  all  that  there 
were.  It  had  a  frugal  mind  and  let  nothing  escape 
it.  On  Sunday,  on  the  frequent  holidays,  at  evening 
after  the  day's  work  was  done,  it  was  always  strolling 
and  tranquilly  staring.  It  was  a  peripatetic  populace, 
and  the  broad  well-kept  roads  on  all  the  hills  around 
the  city  seemed  to  be  ever  echoing  the  slow  footsteps 
of  placid-faced  pilgrims,  —  fathers  and  mothers  with 
an  incredible  trail  of  children,  and  little  bow-legged 
babies,  —  since  almost  as  soon  as  they  had  made  their 
appearance  on  this  planet,  they  had  begun  to  soberly 
measure  off  long  distances  upon  it  with  methodical 
Sunday  excursions.  Very  old  men  and  women  walked 
regularly  by  the  villa,  guarding  tenaciously  their  feeble 
allowance  of  life  ;  while  the  steep  flights  of  steps  be 
tween  the  vineyards  on  the  hill  behind  the  house  were 
haunted  by  anxious  beings,  ascending  with  painful 
puffs,  and  eager  to  leave  behind,  not  their  sins,  like 
the  motley  pilgrims  on  the  Scala  Santa,  but  a  portion 
of  their  superfluous  adipose  tissue  —  which  is  apt  to 
prove,  in  most  instances,  a  heavier  burden  than  in 
iquity.  Once,  when  a  man  climbed  three  hundred  al 
most  perpendicular  steps  at  dawn  of  day,  he  was  a 
poet,  a  painter,  or  a  lover.  Now  he  is  a  disciple  of 
Schweninger. 

All  the  little  world  of  pedestrians  looked  at  the 
countess  and  Gabrielle,  and  envied  them.  "  Nothing 
to  do  but  to  be  happy,"  was  the  usual  comment,  made 
with  a  stolid  stare,  a  weary  sigh,  or  a  ferment  of  envy, 
according  to  the  heart  of  the  speaker.  Yet  Gabrielle 
was  counting  the  days  of  her  bondage,  like  a  prisoner 
in  his  cell,  and  comforting  herself  with  visions  of 
home  and  freedom,  when  her  father  should  have 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  171) 

returned  from  far-off  seas.  In  her  quieter  and  better 
moments,  when  some  recent  affront  was  not  rankling, 
she  was  beginning  to  realize  with  a  kind  of  wrondering 
pity,  that  Countess  Kronfels  was  a  most  unhappy  old 
woman.  Gabrielle  often  speculated  upon  the  quality  of 
the  intercourse  between  mother  and  son,  but  had  no 
opportunity  to  see  them  together.  So  far  as  she  knew, 
the  countess  made  a  more  or  less  hasty  descent  upon 
Hugo's  quarters,  every  day  toward  noon,  provided  a 
formal  visitor  in  her  own  boudoir  or  an  indisposition 
on  Mousey 's  part  did  not  prevent. 

April,  after  a  prematurely  warm  March,  was  cold 
and  rainy.  Hugo  did  not  leave  his  rooms  in  some 
weeks,  and  Gabrielle  while  regretting  the  invalid's  en 
forced  seclusion,  could  not  suspect  that  the  weather 
was  not  its  exclusive  cause. 

A  spirited  Hungarian  horse  found  its  way  into  the 
Kronfels  stables.  Its  name  was  Sphinx,  which  she 
thought  delightful.  When,  one  morning,  Lipps  told 
her  that  there  was  a  horse  for  her  to  try  in  the  court 
yard,  she  was  on  his  back  in  a  twinkling,  and  thanked 
the  countess  warmly  at  lunch  for  the  pleasure  the 
splendid  animal  had  given  her.  The  countess  said 
"  Hm !  "  and  for  various  motives  kept  her  son's  secret, 
while  Gabrielle  for  months  cherished  the  innocent 
conviction  that  the  horse  was  a  living  proof  of  the 
countess's  inherent  kindness.  After  being  insulted, 
brow -beaten,  meanly  suspected,  and  trodden  under 
foot,  the  young  girl  with  a  triumphant  want  of  logic 
would  say  :  "  How  uncharitable  I  am  !  There  is 
Sphinx." 

She  rode  early  every  morning  with  Lipps  in  attend 
ance.  When  she  found  that  he  was  detailed  for  her 
service,  she  was  greatly  distressed,  and  assured  the 


180  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

countess  that  she  would  rather  not  ride  at  all  than 
take  Count  Hugo's  man,  and  indeed  she  needed  no 
groom  out  on  the  country  roads. 

To  this  the  countess  responded,  with  her  inexpli 
cable  look  of  jealousy  and  mistrust,  that  she  would 
thank  Gabrielle  not  to  attempt  to  dictate  or  interfere, 
that  Gabrielle  would  perhaps  allow  one  to  have  some 
control  of  the  servants  in  one's  own  house  ;  that  Lapps 
was  the  only  one  who  had  time  to  go ;  that  it  was 
very  indelicate  for  a  young  lady  to  ride  alone,  what 
ever  people  did  at  Dohna  ;  and  as  to  getting  in  a  pet, 
and  not  riding  at  all,  if  Gabrielle,  after  a  horse  had 
been  specially  provided  for  her,  imagined  that  she 
could  play  fast  and  loose  in  an  ill-bred  and  capricious 
fashion,  she  was  extremely  mistaken.  This  tirade, 
induced  by  the  countess's  chronic  objection  to  inde 
pendent  enjoyment  on  the  part  of  her  subjects  by  her 
deep-seated  envy  of  youth  and  freshness,  and  by  the 
hot  remembrance  of  Hugo's  stern  injunctions  which 
controlled  her  against  her  will,  was  sufficient  to  ren 
der  Gabrielle  perplexed,  uncomfortable,  and  indig 
nant,  but  could  not  permanently  cool  her  ardor. 
How  early  she  began  her  flight,  how  swiftly  she  went, 
and  how  far  beyond  Leslach  out  into  the  open  coun 
try,  —  through  woods  and  a  game-park,  past  sloping 
orchards  and  undulating  meadows  and  villages  nestled 
high  and  low  among  a  myriad  of  hills,  the  countess 
never  inquired,  and  Gabrielle  soon  learned  to  avoid 
the  subject.  In  rash  enthusiasm,  she  ventured  to  ex 
patiate  upon  the  delights  of  her  first  ride,  and  told 
the  countess  that  the  country  was  as  fresh  as  the 
Garden  of  Eden. 

"  Spare  me  your  rhodomontades !  "  was  the  reply. 
"  One  would  think  no  one  else  had  ever  ridden.     I 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  181 

was  an  expert  horsewoman,  when  I  was  "  —  she  hesi 
tated,  then  said  —  "  strong.  Dear  Dr.  Pressigny  told 
me  that  I  was  too  sensitive  to  bear  so  violent  exercise. 
Women  who  ride  have  usually  rather  tough  nerves," 
she  added,  with  a  disparaging  scrutiny  of  Gabrielle' s 
fresh  color.  After  that,  Gabrielle  spared  her,  reflect 
ing  that  it  was  very  remarkable  for  her  to  sweetly 
provide  the  pleasure,  and  then  be  so  inconsistent  and 
unamiable  because  one  thoroughly  enjoyed  it ;  but,  as 
in  many  another  instance,  the  young  girl  concluded 
to  hold  her  peace  and  accept  the  inevitable ;  and  as 
the  inevitable  included  a  horse,  the  countess's  antago 
nism  sank  into  the  background. 

Gabrielle  would  return  from  her  ride  fresh,  free, 
and  glad,  slip  in  the  side-door,  out  of  consideration  for 
the  countess's  nerves  and  Mousey's,  tip-toe  up  the  ser 
vants'  stairway,  and  write  a  happy  letter  to  her  father. 
Only  the  man  whose  smallest  practical  need  —  a  hand 
kerchief  from  his  chest  of  drawers,  a  book  from  his 
shelves  —  required  another's  ministrations  knew  how 
long  she  rode  in  the  fresh  morning  world.  Her  let 
ters  of  this  epoch  conveyed  to  the  Baron  von  Dohna 
an  impression  of  excellent  spirits,  but  he  sometimes 
wished  that  she  would  say  less  of  her  horse  and  the 
beauties  of  nature,  and  more  of  the  people  with  whom 
she  was  living. 

The  line  of  march  for  the  afternoon  was  consistent 
in  its  inconsistency.  If  the  countess  said  that  they 
were  going  shopping,  Gabrielle  could  be  tolerably 
sure  that  they  would  make  visits ;  if  the  order  was  vis 
its,  they  usually  spent  a  few  hours  in  shops,  where  the 
countess  would  sometimes  buy  with  large  and  luxuri 
ous  caprice,  and  again  would  grow  unhappy  over  the 
price  of  a  necessity.  Gabrielle  greatly  dreaded  the 


182  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

countess's  access  of  economy,  and  particularly  her 
soap-quest.  With  an  uneasy  look  on  her  pale  face, 
she  would  drive  to  small  out-of-the-way  shops  and  hag 
gle  long  with  strange  anxiety.  Mousey,  who  usually 
accompanied  them  on  these  expeditions,  seemed  to 
growl  at  dogs  and  men  with  even  a  darker  misan 
thropy  than  that  which  ordinarily  filled  his  fierce 
breast.  While  the  countess  was  suspiciously  glaring 
at  the  humble  soap-boiler  and  frightening  his  sickly 
wife  and  the  children  clinging  to  her  skirts,  Gabrielle, 
left  in  the  coupe  to  entertain  the  lovey-dovey-dog- 
gums,  could  with  difficulty  prevent  him  from  spring 
ing  through  the  glass  in  insensate  fury  at  the  poor 
and  needy  whom  he  hated,  and  who  in  these  unfash 
ionable  streets,  where  the  countess  for  inscrutable  rea 
sons  sought  to  save  a  penny,  were  continually  passing 
with  their  irritating  bundles  and  insulting  baskets, 
exciting  him  to  the  verge  of  delirium. 

In  large  shops,  where  the  countess  would  order  the 
last  expensive  thing  in  bric-a-brac,  she  was  welcome, 
for  a  skilful  salesman  knew  how  to  play  upon  her 
capricious  vanity  and  reach  her  eminently  respectable 
purse ;  but  she  was  a  terrible  scourge  whenever  her 
large,  stern,  yet  uneasy  countenance  appeared  in  a 
poor  man's  precincts;  and  it  often  occurred  to  Ga 
brielle,  as  she  sat  struggling  with  the  dog  and  watch 
ing  the  scene  in  the  little  shop,  that  if  the  patient  and 
long-suffering  Wynburg  populace  should  ever  rise  and 
slay  in  revolutionary  madness,  the  Countess  Kronfels 
would  surely  be  among  the  first  victims. 

The  drives,  the  visits  and  dinners  grew  more  and 
more  tedious  to  Gabrielle,  and  her  manner  became 
more  indifferent  every  day.  If  she  happened  to 
like  a  face,  or  be  attracted  by  some  stranger,  she 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  183 

straightway  heard  a  defamatory  tale  from  the  coun 
tess's  mocking  lips.  Gabrielle  might  refuse  to  believe 
it,  but  it  would  haunt  her  memory,  perplex  her,  and 
restrain  the  cordial  greeting  and  outstretched  hand 
she  would  have  proffered  if  left  free  to  follow  her  in 
clination.  Perhaps  her  hardest  trial  was  the  necessity 
of  listening  to  belittling  recitals  of  the  world  in  which 
she  now  found  herself.  No  one  escaped  but  Frau 
von  Funnel.  Toward  this  exemplary  person  Gabri 
elle  still  felt  the  innocent  and  impassioned  homage 
which  a  young  girl  sometimes  offers  an  older  and  fas 
cinating  woman.  Gabrielle's  desire  to  serve,  to  yield 
her  will  to  that  serene  guiding  power,  to  become  as 
wax  in  those  deft  hands,  had  not  as  yet  found  verbal 
expression,  because  she  never  had  seen  the  Frau  Ma 
jor  except  in  the  presence  of  the  countess ;  still,  with 
out  words,  Gabrielle  knew  from  the  Frau  Major's 
subtle  sympathy  that  the  mute  allegiance  was  com 
prehended  and  accepted.  Another  person  whom  Ga 
brielle  greatly  liked  was  Mercedes  von  Waldenberg. 
She  was  beautiful,  brilliant,  and  uniformly  attentive 
and  friendly.  They  became  friends,  so  far  as  an  af 
fectionate  and  free  intercourse  skimming  along  cheer 
ily  on  the  surface  of  things  means  friendship.  They 
called  each  other  by  their  first  names,  enjoyed  each 
other's  society,  and  each  kept  her  own  secrets.  This 
easy  and  amiable  relationship  bade  fair  to  continue 
as  it  had  begun,  and  doubtless  would  never  have  de 
veloped  any  ambition  toward  a  profouiider  and  there 
fore  more  troublesome  element,  had  not  Gabrielle 
been  constitutionally  inclined  not  to  let  well  enough 
alone,  but  to  struggle  to  make  it  better,  also  to  leap 
before  she  looked,  and  in  short  to  disregard  all  old 
saws  in  which  caution  figures  as  the  highest  virtue. 


184  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

One  night,  returning  home  unusually  late,  she 
noticed  far  down  the  drive  that  Hugo's  rooms  were 
lighted.  She  had  enjoyed  the  evening.  After  the 
opera,  there  had  been  a  gay  little  supper  with  the 
Waldenberg  party,  at  a  restaurant.  Mercedes  was 
charming  and  in  brilliant  spirits.  Beside  her  marquis 
she  had  several  officers  in  her  train,  among  them  a 
man  with  steady,  sensible  eyes,  whom  she  presented  to 
Gabrielle  as  "  a  very,  very  old  friend,  —  Baron  von 
Paalzow,  returned,  at  last,  from  Berlin." 

Leaning  back  comfortably  in  her  corner  of  the  car 
riage,  Gabrielle  recalled  the  evening  with  unwonted 
satisfaction.  She  had  been  skilfully  seated  by  Mer 
cedes,  in  the  centre  of  her  gay  young  court,  and  invig- 
oratingly  far  from  Aunt  Adelheid.  With  the  removal 
of  the  crushing  and  benumbing  influence,  Gabrielle's 
natural  cheerfulness  rebounded  and  asserted  itself 
blithely.  Silent,  smiling,  lost  in  indolent  retrospec 
tion,  she  was  now  approaching  the  house,  when  the 
sudden  gleam  of  Hugo's  windows  between  gaunt, 
black  tree-trunks  revealed  his  forlorn  figure  to  her 
consciousness  as  vividly  as  if  she  were  beholding  his 
actual  presence,  and  involuntarily  she  reproached  her 
self  for  her  light-heartedness.  How  hopelessly  long 
and  lonely  his  days  were,  and  how  different  it  might 
be  at  the  villa,  —  how  sunny  and  kindly  and  sympa 
thetic  !  Why  could  she  not  run  in  and  bring  him 
some  of  the  laughter  and  brightness  and  careless  gay- 
ety  of  the  evening  ? 

"  Are  not  Count  Hugo's  rooms  lighted  very  late  ?  " 
she  remarked. 

"  Oh  dear,  yes,  —  he  reads  late.  Do  you  know,  if 
I  were  the  Marquis  de  Yallion,  I  would  nip  Mercedes 
and  Paalzow's  reminiscences  in  the  bud?  They 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  185 

seemed  to  date  from  cradle-days,  and  they  promise  to 
multiply  with  amazing  rapidity." 

"  But  it  is  not  his  reading-lamp,  Aunt  Adelheid," 
Gabrielle  persisted ;  "  the  whole  wing  is  brilliantly 
lighted,  as  if  Lipps  had  forgotten,  or  had  been  too 
busy  to  think  of  lights  and  windows.  Could  Count 
Hugo  be  suffering?  Could  he  be  suddenly  ill?" 

"  Why  do  you  deliberately  go  out  of  your  way  to 
choose  annoying  subjects  that  try  my  nerves  ?  Do 
you  wish  to  keep  me  awake  till  morning  ?  And  why 
always  harp  upon  Hugo  ?  Has  he  not  the  right  to 
burn  his  gas  as  long  as  he  pleases,  without  consulting 
you  ?  He  would  not  thank  you  for  your  interference 
and  inquisitiveness,  —  so  much  I  can  assure  you  ;  and 
I  don't  thank  you  for  your  croaking." 

Gabrielle  sighed. 

"  I  was  only  sorry,"  she  answered. 

"  Sorry  ?  What  of  that  ?  Is  that  anything  ex 
traordinary?  Who  is  not  sorry?  It  seems  to  me 
nothing  less  than  impertinence  to  tell  his  own  mother 
in  that  tone  of  voice  that  you  are  sorry !  Sorry,  in 
deed  !  Hm ! " 

Gabrielle  said  nothing,  and  presently  the  countess 
went  on  with  abated  heat,  but  still  irritably :  — 

"  Suppose  I  should  go  to  him.  Is  that  what  you 
mean  to  insinuate  ?  I  should  simply  meet  with  a  very 
unpleasant  and  mocking  reception  for  my  pains. 
There  is  nothing  sudden  to  be  apprehended  in  Hugo's 
case.  It  is  a  dispensation  of  Providence,  and  ought 
to  be  borne  with  resignation.  As  for  rushing  in  and 
making  a  scene  every  time  he  has  a  light  more  or 
less,  —  really,  Gabrielle  —  you  have  positively  —  no 
tact ! " 

Under  other  circumstances  the  singular  climax  to 


18G  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

this  oration  might  have  made  Gabrielle  smile.  In 
her  present  state  of  mind  she  perceived  nothing  amus 
ing  in  the  situation. 

"  You  are  right,"  she  said  with  grave  acquiescence, 
"  I  have  none.  No  one  in  the  world  could  have  less." 

The  countess  being  in  an  evening  mood,  and  her 
"  French "  mood,  and  a  pleasingly  stimulated  after- 
supper  mood,  did  not  dwell  long  upon  the  disturbing 
topic  of  her  son's  infirmities.  Once  in  her  room,  and 
having  had  some  of  her  stiff  worldly  harness  replaced 
by  a  wrapper,  she  sat  in  her  favorite  chair,  sipping  a 
last  glass  of  curacoa,  —  a  "  wee  nightcap,"  she  called 
it,  —  and,  graciously  ignoring  Gabrielle's  want  of  tact, 
reinstated  her  in  favor  as  "  Moonbeam  "  and  "  sweet 
pet,"  and  commented  with  sprightliest  malice  upon 
the  friends  of  whose  salt  they  had  just  partaken. 

When  at  last  Gabrielle  was  released  and  safe  in 
her  own  room,  she  was  eager  to  satisfy  herself  that 
those  lower  windows  no  longer  sent  out  their  unwonted 
message,  but  the  lawn  was  still  flooded  with  light. 
Listening  uneasily,  she  heard  doors  close,  and  once 
she  was  sure  that  Lipps  went  for  something  in  a  dis 
tant  part  of  the  house.  Count  Hugo  was  undoubtedly 
ill.  He  was  always  ill,  indeed.  But  he  must  be  suf 
fering  unusual  pain.  She  had  known  it  instinctively, 
when  instead  of  the  one  faint  glimmer  from  the  shaded 
reading-lamp  in  his  sleeping-room  she  had  perceived 
that  startlingly  irrelevant  illumination.  She  had 
learned  to  watch  for  his  window  as  she  drove  home 
late,  to  greet  it  afar  off  as  a  familiar  and  pleasant 
thing,  and  to  send  him,  in  spite  of  himself,  a  kind 
good-night  and  gentle  pitying  thoughts.  More  than 
once  she  had  smiled  at  the  interest  she  regularly  felt 
in  the  faintly  shining  distant  window  of  a  man  who 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  187 

persistently  manifested,  not  mere  indifference,  but  a 
pronounced  objection  to  her  society.  But  her  sym 
pathy  was  too  sincere,  her  indulgence  too  large,  for 
her  to  be  capable  of  any  petty  annoyance  because  of 
his  attitude  toward  her.  Then  there  was  so  little 
that  was  homelike  at  the  villa,  so  little  to  which  she 
could  feel  attached,  that  she  had  grown  to  make  the 
most  of  that  one  window,  and  to  regard  it  with  a  spe 
cies  of  affection,  whatever  inimical  sentiments  toward 
her  might  be  cherished  behind  it.  She  had  even  ac 
customed  herself  to  see  in  imagination  the  invalid's 
face  on  his  pillow,  and  the  pile  of  books  and  maga 
zines  on  one  table,  while  upon  another,  the  best  pos 
sible  burner  under  the  best  possible  shade  shed  its 
light  upon  his  midnight  vigils.  Through  floors  and 
through  walls,  she  pictured  him  day  by  day.  What 
she,  who  never  seemed  to  ask  a  question,  learned  from 
Lipps,  who  never  seemed  to  communicate  anything 
about  his  master,  was  also  considerable,  and  the  bound 
less  devotion  of  the  simple  man  who  rode  behind  her 
nearly  every  morning  did  not  tend  to  make  her  think 
less  kindly  of  the  count.  Then  she  had  seen  him  by 
chance  that  day  in  the  garden,  and  could  not  lightly 
forget  his  pale  worn  face,  his  searching  eyes,  and  long 
thin  hands.  To-night  she  recalled  him  with  peculiar 
vividness,  lying  in  his  chair  among  red  cushions,  saw 
him  make  an  instinctive  effort  to  rise,  then  sink  back 
wearily,  as  she  stood  by  him  a  little  startled,  yet  not 
ill-pleased  to  look  at  last  upon  the  mystery  face  to 
face.  It  was  not,  indeed,  a  grewsome  mystery.  She 
had  felt  that,  with  a  warm  rush  of  pity  in  her  heart, 
as  the  pale  man  fixed  his  eyes  in  silence  upon  her. 
He  had  extended  no  hand  in  welcome.  He  uttered  no 
word  of  greeting.  The  countess  had  told  her,  indeed, 


188  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

and  often  enough,  that  he  did  not  desire  to  know 
her.  But  as  she  saw  pride  and  strength  laid  so  piti 
fully  low,  she  had  no  thought  of  self  and  wounded 
dignity. 

"I  did  not  know  that  you  were  here,"  she  had 
begun,  —  and  how  the  fresh  sweetness  of  her  voice 
sounded  in  Hugo's  ears  after  his  long  exile  from  the 
world  she  had  no  suspicion,  —  "I  did  not  know,  but 
I  am  not  sorry,  unless  it  disturbs  you."  She  held  out 
her  hand  frankly.  "  I  have  greatly  wished  to  know 
you,"  she  continued  after  a  little  pause,  in  which  she 
waited  in  vain  for  him  to  speak. 

He  did  not  appear  to  notice  her  gesture. 

She  colored  slightly  and  began  again,  not  without 
timidity  :  — 

"  Could  I  not  come  and  chat  with  you,  now  and 
then?" 

"  Thanks,"  he  said  at  length  and  very  coldly,  "  I 
am  not  a  sociable  person.  I  am  not  fond  of  chatting." 

Again  she  hesitated. 

"  I  could  read  to  you,"  she  proposed. 

"  Thanks.  There  is  nothing  whatever  the  matter 
with  my  eyes." 

"  That  is  a  mercy,"  she  said  simply.  "  Yes,  they 
look  strong,"  scrutinizing  them  in  a  business-like  man 
ner,  and  not  as  women  in  former  days  had  regarded 
Hugo  Kronfels'  eyes. 

"  And  I  really  can  do  nothing  for  you  —  nothing 
at  all  ?  "  she  asked  regretfully. 

"If  I  were  not  a  cripple  she  would  not  insist," 
Hugo  told  himself  with  bitterness.  "  A  cripple  is  no 
man.  Hence  her  fearlessness  and  pious  benevolence." 

"  Nothing,  thanks,"  he  returned  with  extreme  cere 
mony. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  189 

She  looked  distressed  and  was  silent,  while  her  soft 
clear  gaze  rested  long  and  thoughtfully  upon  him, 
noting  his  strong  spirited  features,  pinched  and  wan 
now,  the  compressed  mouth,  the  pallor  of  his  hands, 
and  the  books  lying  on  his  knee. 

"  I  am  very,  very  sorry,"  she  said,  and  turned  away. 
Then,  with  a  quick  movement,  and  a  sudden  and 
charming  smile,  "You  may  change  your  mind,"  she 
added  hopefully,  "  and  if  you  should  ever  want  me 
and  would  kindly  send  for  me,  you  would  make  me 
very  happy." 

But  nearly  a  month  had  passed,  and  he  had  not 
sent  for  her.  He  had  been  invisible,  buried  in  his 
rooms.  Why  did  he  see  no  one  ?  Why  were  things 
so  unnatural,  so  uncomfortable,  so  much  worse  than 
they  need  be  ?  If  everybody  would  only  do  his  best, 
it  would  all  be  quite  different.  But  everybody  seemed 
determined  to  do  his  worst.  For  instance,  at  that  mo 
ment,  why  were  she  and  the  countess  not  with  him  ? 
A  woman's  presence  would  surely  be  of  some  comfort. 
Surely  sympathy,  affection,  kindness,  would  be  worth 
something  to  him.  The  countess  was  human,  she 
could  not  be  entirely  destitute  of  natural  affection ; 
she  had  her  amiable  qualities,  there  was  Sphinx ;  and 
had  she  not  subscribed  very  liberally  for  various  char 
ities  ?  If  she  could  only  be  induced  to  forget  herself 
and  Mousey,  for  her  son's  sake.  She  was  so  pretty 
when  she  was  not  angry  or  mistrustful.  There  was 
not  a  prettier  old  lady  in  the  world.  She  could  not 
really  know  how  forlorn  Hugo's  fate  was.  No  one 
was  wholly  cold,  wholly  selfish. 

Ah,  it  seemed  as  if  they  were  all  led  by  some  per 
verse  malicious  imp  to  do  the  wrong,  unlovely  thing. 
Hugo  himself  —  one  could  excuse  him  indeed  — 


190  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

was  the  most  uncompromisingly  ungracious  being  in 
the  world.  If  he  had  not  had  such  great  sad  eyes, 
she  could  scarcely  have  forgiven  him  for  his  frigidity. 

She  indeed  was  always  blundering,  always  awkward 
and  unfortunate,  literally  without  "  tact,"  as  the  coun 
tess  had  said.  How  was  it  possible  to  live  weeks  in 
this  house,  and  with  the  best  will  in  the  world  never 
succeed  in  doing  anything  sensible  and  desirable  and 
good  ?  She  had  excelled  in  the  art  of  irritating  the 
countess,  and  had  advanced  not  an  inch  toward  Hugo. 
Yet  his  prejudices  —  the  whims  of  a  sick  man  —  could 
not  be  invincible.  Here  was  no  robber-knight's  castle 
to  be  stormed.  Here  was  no  arduous  task.  The  facts 
were  simple,  commonplace  indeed,  yet  stubborn  and 
immovable,  crystallized  in  unyielding  forms.  If  she 
had  but  approached  him  wisely  in  the  garden  that 
morning !  How  hard,  how  impossible  it  was  to  be 
wise !  Yet  at  Dohiia,  she  had  never  troubled  herself 
to  consider  whether  she  was  wise  or  unwise. 

"I  have  been  so  self-confident,"  she  thought  sorrow 
fully,  "  and  I  have  no  qualities  which  are  of  any  use 
in  this  situation.  It  is  obvious  that  no  one  could  do 
worse  than  I  have  done.  Lucie  would  know  how  to 
make  things  more  kindly  and  human,"  she  reflected, 
with  sudden  surprise  at  this  involuntary  tribute  to 
Frau  von  Dohna's  sagacity.  "  The  Frau  Major  could 
advise  me,  but  it  is  not  easy  to  speak  of  Aunt  Adel- 
heid  to  her  intimate  friend." 

And  Mercedes  ?  Could  she  not  help  matters  ?  Why 
did  she  not  come  to  Count  Hugo  ?  Why  did  not 
everybody  do  the  simple  natural  thing  ?  They  had 
been  friends.  Mercedes  said  so,  and  the  world  with 
knowing  hints  and  sly  smiles  and  the  all-potent  "if," 
never  ceased  to  allude  to  them  together.  At  the 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  191 

opera,  that  evening,  Gabrielle  had  thought  much  of 
Mercedes,  watching  her  across  the  house,  as  she  came 
in  beautiful  and  radiant,  followed  by  her  smirking 
old  marquis.  Afterwards,  at  supper,  Gabrielle  forgot 
her  earnest  thoughts,  and  enjoyed  herself  without 
restraint,  for  Mercedes  could  be  as  droll  as  she  was 
winning,  and  to-night  her  mood  was  irresistible. 

But  now  Gabrielle' s  problems  confronted  her  again. 
Until  the  lights  were  out  below,  she  did  not  sleep. 
She  was  excited,  troubled,  and  sad.  It  seemed  to  her 
that  it  would  be  a  crime  for  Mercedes  to  marry  that 
old  man.  And  as  she  thought  of  Mercedes,  it  seemed 
to  her  that  strange  magnetic  currents  were  bringing 
her  messages  from  the  sufferer,  telling  her  of  his  pain, 
his  loneliness,  and  his  defiance,  —  were  revealing  his 
pale  haughty  face,  pathetic  in  its  gloom  and  reserve. 
Was  this  life  ?  Was  this  the  world  they  had  wanted 
her  to  see  ?  Only  a  little  circle,  yet  all  wrong,  where 
it  might  easily  —  yes,  easily — be  right.  A  touch 
here,  a  change  there,  and  all  would  be  transformed. 
Yet  how  powerless  one  was !  Had  one  always  one's 
self  to  thank  for  one's  misfortunes  ?  Was  each  soul 
always  its  own  worst  enemy  ? 

The  hill-lights  burned  across  the  valley.  It  was 
very  still,  except  for  a  dog  barking  at  intervals  in  a 
lower  street,  and  somewhere  —  near  or  far  she  could  not 
judge  —  some  one  was  splitting  wood  with  surprising 
distinctness.  She  wondered  why,  at  that  hour.  Per 
haps  there  were  illness  and  suffering  there  too.  Per 
haps  the  man's  wife  or  child  was  ill.  How  much  sor 
row  there  was  in  the  world !  Yet  though  disease  and 
pain  and  death  must  come,  if  tenderness  and  truth 
need  not  fail  —  this  thought  seemed  wonderful  and 
new  to  the  young  girl,  and  took  possession  of  her  with 


192  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

the  strength  of  a  great  revelation  —  might  there  not 
still  be  peace  mightier  than  fate's  most  cruel  blows 

—  a  peace  that  passeth  understanding  ? 

The  lawn  was  gradually  growing  dusky.  Lipps  was 
putting  out  the  lights.  It  was  after  two  o'clock. 
"  Dear  old  faithful,  patient,  loving  Lipps !  "  she  mur 
mured.  "  If  we  all  knew  our  duty  and  did  it  as  sim 
ply  as  you,  and  with  your  untiring  heart ! 

"  But  I  will  not  give  up.  I  will  talk  with  Mercedes. 
I  will  see  her  at  once  —  to-morrow.  She  can  do  what 
I  cannot.  She  can  do  anything  she  will.  At  all  events 
I  must  speak  with  her  —  of  herself  —  of  Count  Hugo 

—  of  all  these  thoughts  that  haunt  me." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

TOWARD  nine  the  following  morning,  Mercedes  sat 
in  her  room,  drinking  her  coffee  and  reading  a  French 
novel  in  a  desultory  fashion,  when  Gabrielle  was  an 
nounced.  As  she  entered,  Mercedes  cried  :  — 

"  This  is  perfect !  Come  and  sit  here  by  me,  and 
tell  me  all  about  it." 

"Tell  you  about  what?" 

"  Why,  whatever  sent  you  down  to  me  so  early,  — 
Heaven  bless  it !  I  hope  it  is  an  affair  of  the  heart, 
if  that  is  not  too  indiscreet  on  my  part." 

"  You  do  yourself  injustice,"  Gabrielle  replied ;  "  I 
have  come  simply  to  see  you,  —  to  see  you  freely  and 
alone,  without  all  the  world  watching  and  listening." 

"  Ah,  the  world !  "  yawned  Mercedes,  throwing  up 
her  slight  round  arms  in  their  loose  sleeves,  and  lean 
ing  her  head  back  comfortably.  "  Poor  old  world ! 
How  they  did  abuse  it !  Surely  you  are  not  going  to 
attack  it,  Gabrielle?  It  is  amazingly  kind  to  you." 

"  I  suppose  it  would  seem  very  stupid  of  me  to  find 
fault  with  what  I  understand  so  little ;  yet  I  don't 
always  like  it  —  that  is  not  so  much  of  it  —  and  all 
the  time.  In  the  country,  I  used  to  meet  fewer  people, 
and  meet  them  differently." 

"  Your  affectation  of  rusticity  is  always  a  delight  to 
me.  You  know  very  well  that  you  crush  us  all  with 
your  grand  air.  Mamma  praises  you  unconditionally. 
I  can  hardly  expect  you  to  appreciate  the  awful  signi 
ficance  of  this  information,"  —  Mercedes  laughed  a 


194  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

little,  —  "  but  I  assure  you  it  lias  never  happened  in 
the  case  of  any  other  mortal.  Some  one  asked  me 
last  night,  Do  you  suppose  it  is  possible  for  anybody 
to  be  as  quiet  as  the  Baroness  von  Dohna  looks  ?  " 

"  What  nonsense  !  I  am  far  from  quiet.  I  am  un 
quiet,  and  restless.  That  is  why  I  am  here." 

"  Ah,  a  heart-history,  after  all !  "  Mercedes  had  or 
dered  some  hot  coffee,  and  now  poured  a  cup  for  her 
guest.  "  Drink  and  confess !  "  she  said  with  a  flash 
ing  smile.  She  looked  less  fresh  and  young  than  in 
evening  dress ;  her  face  in  repose  showed  some  hard 
deep  lines  about  the  eyes  and  mouth,  and  the  skin  was 
"fatigued,"  as  the  French  say.  But  Gabrielle  was  a 
generous  critic,  and  found  the  graceful  dark  woman,  in 
her  fantastic  ntgligt  of  rose-colored  crepe,  marvel 
lously  lovely  and  winning. 

"  Come,  child,  which  one  is  it  ?  " 

Gabrielle  smiled.  "  Shall  you  not  be  interested 
unless  I  talk  of  lovers  ?  I  really  have  none." 

"  I  am  interested  in  you,  and  everything  that  con 
cerns  you,"  Mercedes  replied  cordially.  "  Still,  it  is  a 
pity  that  you  can't,  or  rather  won't,  entertain  me  with 
lovers.  Lovers  may  not  amount  to  much,  but  they  are 
more  interesting  than  most  things  women  talk  about. 
It  is  so  good  of  you  to  help  me  dawdle  away  my  morn 
ing.  My  book  is  as  stupid  as  it  is  immoral,  and  my 
thoughts  are  far  from  merry."  She  sighed,  then  added 
brightly :  "  What  a  mistake  late  suppers  are  !  They 
are  ruinous  to  the  spirits  and  death  to  the  complexion. 
Particularly  game-patties,  don't  you  think  so?  " 

"Mercedes,"  began  Gabrielle  abruptly,  "do  you 
know  any  happy  people  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  returned  the  other,  smiling  and  lifting  her 
eyebrows,  "  the  inquisitor-general !  Let  me  see  that 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  195 

there  are  no  spies."  She  walked  across  the  room, 
opened  a  door,  and  glanced  into  the  adjoining  cham 
ber.  "My  sprightly  sister  has  gone  down,"  she  ex 
plained.  "  She  is  younger  than  I,  she  is  not  engaged 
to  be  married,  and  her  days  are  not  too  long.  I  am 
my  own  mistress  only  in  the  morning,  like  you  — 
you  poor  dear,"  she  added  laughing  lightly.  "  After 
that,  we  are  the  slaves  of  age.  That  is  not  a  nice 
speech,  I  admit.  You  look  so  serious  and  honest,  you 
tempt  me  to  speak  the  truth,  but  it 's  not  a  frequent 
fault  of  mine,  and  I  repent  already." 

"  Mercedes !  "  expostulated  Gabrielle  laughing. 

"  Now  for  your  catechism.  Do  I  know  any  happy 
people?  Except  children  and  fools,  no.  Do  you?" 

"  Not  here  ;  not  in  Wynburg.  That  is,  not  in  your 
world." 

"  My  dear  Gabrielle,  I  must  insist  upon  respect  for 
my  world,  in  my  presence.  I  am  a  worldling  to  the  tips 
of  my  toes.  The  world  snaps  at  me,  as  that  little  vile 
Mousey  snaps  at  the  Countess  Kronf  els,  and  abuses  me 
and  tyrannizes  over  me,  but  I  am  faithful  to  it  as  she 
is  to  her  ugly  little  cur.  By  the  way,  is  he  not  a  nui 
sance  ?  If  I  were  you,  I  should  be  tempted  to  give  him 
a  dose  of  cyankali.  But  her  devotion  and  mine  are 
pathetic  all  the  same.  We  cannot  live  without  our 
heart's  desire." 

Gabrielle  smiled  with  candid  admiration.  She  liked 
Mercedes'  rapid  way  of  talking  nonsense. 

"  I  have  seen  but  one  happy  person  since  I  came  to 
Wynburg,"  said  the  young  girl  meditatively.  "  He  is 
a  stone-carver,  who  works  on  a  house  near  us.  He 
sings  like  a  glad  angel  all  day  long.  The  other  day, 
in  a  violent  thunder-storm,  between  the  peals,  I  heard 
that  man's  high  sweet  voice  singing  Robin  Adair." 


196  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Mark  my  words,  he  is  doomed.  He  will  fall  from 
Ms  scaffolding  and  break  his  neck,  or  even  now  some 
curse  is  on  him  which  he  does  not  suspect.  He  belongs 
to  the  children-and-fools  category." 

Gabrielle  shook  her  head.  "  He  is  not  a  fool.  He 
has  a  lovely  face,  and  he  looks  calm  and  wise." 

"  After  all,  his  singing  proves  nothing.  We  all  sing, 
do  we  not?  I  sing." 

"  Not  like  him,"  Gabrielle  said  gently. 

"  But  we  can't  all  take  to  stone-carving  and  tenor 
solos  for  our  peace  of  mind  ?  " 

"No,  but  I  wish  we  might  learn  his  secret.  He 
comes  in  now  and  then  to  see  Count  Hugo." 

"Ah,"  said  Mercedes  quickly,  the  mockery  fading 
from  her  face. 

"  Lipps  —  he  rides  with  me  now,  you  know  —  tells 
me  the  count  likes  the  man  greatly." 

"  Lipps  ?     Not  Count  Hugo  himself  ?  " 

"  I  never  see  Count  Hugo.  I  have  seen  him  but 
once,  and  that  quite  by  accident." 

"  Indeed,"  rejoined  Mercedes. 

Neither  spoke  for  a  moment. 

There  was  not  a  sound  in  the  room  except  the  gentle 
ticking  of  a  crystal  clock.  Mercedes,  usually  given  to 
fluttering,  rapid  gestures,  sat  motionless,  her  head 
drooping,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  her  rosy  folds  and  lace. 
While  Gabrielle,  her  elbow  on  the  table,  her  cheek  rest 
ing  on  her  hand,  regarded  the  lovely  woman  before  her 
so  thoughtfully,  and  with  so  direct  and  questioning  a 
gaze,  that  Mercedes  felt  it  through  her  downcast  lids. 

"  Count  Hugo  lies  hours  and  hours  alone,  every 
day  —  entirely  alone,"  Gabrielle  began,  low  and  slowly, 
and  with  little  pauses,  as  if  she  saw  what  she  re 
counted.  "  He  reads  much,  of  course,  but  one  cannot 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  197 

always  read.  There  he  lies,  thinking  the  saddest  of 
sad  thoughts  and  staring  at  the  ceiling  with  his  great 
mournful  eyes.  When  I  saw  him  —  it  was  in  the  gar 
den,  a  month  ago  —  his  face  was  pale  as  death,  and  his 
hands  were  thin  —  like  a  woman's  at  home  who  died. 
I  can  see  him  still,  just  as  the  sunshine  fell  on  him,  — 
shivering  under  his  wraps,  —  and  I  remember  his  eyes 
—  his  great  beautiful  melancholy  eyes." 

"  Don't,"  Mercedes  ejaculated  inaudibly. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon." 

"  No,  no,  it  is  nothing.  I  merely —  Go  on,  Gabri- 
elle.  Do  you  know,"  she  continued  lightly,  "it  is 
really  beginning  to  be  as  interesting  as  lovers  ?  You 
were  saying  that  you  remember  Count  Hugo  Kronfels' 
eyes.  They  are  very  handsome  eyes,  so  why  should 
you  not  remember  them  ?  What  next  ?  " 

"  They  are  very  sad  eyes.  They  make  one's  heart 
ache.  Even  pain  and  a  crippled  body  need  not  make 
them  so  unutterably  sad.  But  they  look  upon  nothing 
happy,  —  nothing  loving  and  true." 

Mercedes  played  with  the  lace  on  her  sleeve,  and 
after  a  moment  replied,  with  somewhat  hard  mirth :  — 

"  No,  if  he  won't  look  at  you,  and  only  sees  his 
mamma!  She  is  certainly  not  happy  and  loving  and 
true.  What  deliciously  odd  words  you  use  !  " 

"  I  doubt  if  she  can  help  him,"  Gabrielle  said  gently. 
"  I  think  that  you  are  the  only  one  who  could  help  him, 
Mercedes." 

"  I  ?     Impossible,"  she  returned  with  a  start. 

"  Were  you  not  his  friend?  " 

"  I  knew  him  well  —  yes." 

"  And  you  liked  him  ?  " 

Mercedes  smiled  singularly.  "  Yes,  I  liked  him  — 
much." 


198  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  And  what  was  he,  in  those  days  ?  " 

Mercedes  stared,  shrugged  her  shoulders,  was  about 
to  give  an  evasive  reply,  hesitated,  then  yielding  irre 
sistibly  to  Gabrielle's  soft  persistence  said  impetu 
ously  :  — 

"  Hugo  von  Kronfels  was  the  handsomest,  kindest, 
sunniest,  happiest,  bravest  man  I  ever  knew  !  " 

"  Then  why  do  you  leave  him  to  suffer  alone  —  you 
who  were  his  friend  ?  "  asked  the  mild,  relentless  voice. 

"  But,  Gabrielle,"  protested  Mercedes,  "  one  does 
not  ask  such  questions  !  Not  that  my  conscience  has 
not  asked  them,  scores  of  times,"  she  added  gayly, 
"  but  I  have  the  habit  of  snubbing  my  conscience.  It 
has  not  dared  to  give  a  sign  of  life,  since  —  really,  I 
forget  when  it  last  spoke,  it  was  so  long  ago." 

Gabrielle  waited,  and  at  length  rejoined :  — 

"  But  you  don't  answer  me." 

Mercedes  frowned  slightly,  looked  sharply  at  Gabri 
elle  an  instant,  then  smiled  with  an  incredulous  air, 
as  if  so  much  seriousness  and  honesty  were  beyond 
belief. 

"  What  a  child  you  are !  You  forget  that  I  have 
promised  to  marry  the  Marquis  de  Vallion." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  remember  that  only  too  well." 

This  unequivocal  statement  produced  in  Mercedes  a 
strong  feeling  of  surprise.  What  people  thought  of 
her  engagement  she  was  fully  aware ;  but,  as  she  had 
observed,  there  are  questions  one  does  not  ask  and 
things  one  does  not  say,  and  to  the  steps  of  the  altar, 
and  beyond,  she  expected  to  be  accompanied  by  a  loud 
and  unbroken  chorus  of  felicitation.  It  was  an  artis 
tic  combination  of  perjury  and  orange-blossoms,  but 
why  not  ?  Did  it  not  happen  every  day  ?  She  looked 
kindly  at  Gabrielle,  reflecting  that  the  thing  that  did 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  199 

not  happen  every  day  was  listening  to  truth  from  the 
heart  of  a  friend.  Yet  it  being  the  habit  of  her  life  to 
jest,  she  did  not  surrender  at  once,  but  rallied  again. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Gabrielle,"  she  said  with  mock 
seriousness,  "do  you  feel  quite  well  this  morning?  Be 
cause,  do  you  know,  you  have  certain  symptoms  that 
are  so  unusual,  they  alarm  me." 

"  I  think  that  I  am  in  my  right  mind,"  Gabrielle 
returned,  "  but  perhaps  I  am  not,  after  all,  for  every 
body  seems  unhappy  to  me,  and  everything  is  at  cross 
purposes,  and  it  might  all  be  so  different." 

"What  might  be  different?"  demanded  Mercedes 
abruptly.  Then  in  her  bantering  tone:  "One  must 
humor  you,  for  evidently  there  is  no  escape  for  the 
light-minded  and  giddy." 

"  But  that  is  not  what  you  are,  Mercedes." 

"  You  do  not  know  me." 

"  I  know  that  you  are  beautiful  and  good,  —  and 
not  happy." 

"  Happy !  "  repeated  Mercedes  bitterly. 

"  I  don't  mean  that  one  can  draw  a  line  of  demarca 
tion  between  the  positively  happy  and  the  positively 
unhappy,"  Gabrielle  went  on  trustingly,  and  appeal 
ing  always  to  the  real  Mercedes  behind  the  mask. 
"  Children  reason  in  that  way,  and  I  may  have  had 
that  uncompromising  idea  not  so  very  long  ago,"  she 
added  with  a  slight  smile.  "  But  lately  it  seems  to  me 
there  must  be  happiness,  beyond  all  griefs,  —  happiness 
—  or  something  better." 

"  Better  than  happiness  ?  You  are  sure  it  is  n't  a 
conundrum  ?  I  really  can't  soar  in  your  lofty  regions, 
and  happiness  is  quite  good  enough  for  me." 

"  One  hears  things  all  one's  life  that  are  only  empty 
words,  until  suddenly  their  meaning  dawns  upon  one. 


200  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

It  was  so  with  me  last  night,"  Gabrielle  continued 
thoughtfully. 

"  It  was  not  in  church  last  Sunday  ?  "  Mercedes  sug 
gested. 

"  Ah,  let  me  tell  you !  There  were  all  the  people, 
Mercedes,  and  I  was  watching  them,  and  suddenly  I 
thought :  '  Each  one  of  us  is  a  spirit,  not  only  when  we 
die,  but  now.'  I  perceived  it,  I  felt  it,  and  I  cannot  tell 
you  how  strongly,  —  as  if  it  were  my  own  discovery, 
and  no  one  had  ever  known  it  before.  '  Beneath  the 
silk,'  I  thought,  4  and  velvet,  and  feathers,  and  lace, 
and  the  smiles,  is  a  soul.' " 

"Are  you  so  sure  of  that?  "  Mercedes  asked  scorn 
fully.  "  Some  of  them  —  yes.  —  but  not  all.  Oh, 
dear,  no !  " 

"  And  it  seemed  to  me  all  the  souls  were  seeking  and 
not  finding,  and  that  so  many  were  wandering  on  the 
wrong  road." 

"Please  don't  let  it  be  an  allegory,  Gabrielle!  I 
can  bear  a  sermon,  having  just  had  my  coffee.  But 
allegories  never  agreed  with  me." 

Gabrielle  looked  at  her  affectionately  with  a  little 
laugh. 

"  I  don't  doubt  it  all  sounds  stupid  enough.  I  am 
only  trying  to  show  you  what  I  was  thinking  at  the 
opera,  and  afterwards  late  in  the  night,  at  home,  and 
then  you  would  understand  why  I  came  to  you  this 
morning.  I  saw  how  lovely  you  were,  and  it  seemed 
to  me  that  you  were  on  the  wrong  road,  too.  I  thought 
that  your  loveliness  could  comfort  one  who  is  sorrowful 
and  forsaken,  and  that  you  might  find  a  joy  deeper 
than  any  you  now  know.  And  I  wondered  why  no 
one  was  loving  enough  to  dare  to  tell  you  so.  I 
wondered  why  all  were  silent,  —  your  mother,  your 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  201 

sister,   and  every  one.     Suddenly,  something  within 
me  said :  — 

" 4  But  you  are  silent,  too.    Why  do  you  not  speak  ? ' 
And  here  I  am,  Mercedes,  and  I  have  spoken." 

"  Like  a  little  bishop  !  "  retorted  Mercedes,  smiling 
gallantly  still,  "  like  an  apostle  to  the  heathen."  Sud 
denly  she  crossed  her  arms  on  the  table  and  leaned 
her  head  upon  them. 

Gabrielle  rose,  and  stood  with  her  hand  on  the  bowed 
head. 

"  Forgive  me,  Mercedes,  if  I  am  awkward,"  she  said. 
"  I  don't  really  care  for  that,  if  only  you  understand. 
Listen,  Mercedes.  Why  may  I  not  speak  the  truth  ? 
You  cannot  love  that  old  man.  Must  I  pretend  that 
I  think  you  do  ?  Why  do  you  marry  him  ?  Why  do 
you  not  come  to  that  lonely  room  and  seek  your  friend  ? 
If  he  was  kind  and  generous  and  brave  when  he  was 
well,  is  he  less  so  now?  If  he  loved  you  when  all 
the  world  was  at  his  feet,  would  he  not  love  you  infi 
nitely  more,  now  that  the  world  has  forgotten  him  ? 
It  would  be  so  beautiful  to  be  needed.  I  know  one 
naturally  thinks  first  of  strength,  bodily  strength,  and 
health,  and  all  that,  but  when  one  sees  the  strong  ones, 
and  how  vapid  they  are  sometimes,  how  thoughtless 
and  selfish,  and  then  when  one  looks  at  him,  why, 
Mercedes,  I  could  take  you  in  my  arms  and  carry  you 
to  him!" 

Mercedes  neither  spoke  nor  moved. 

"  I  come  home  late,  perhaps.  I  hear  no  sound  from 
below.  Yet  I  cannot  forget  that  he  is  lying  there, 
often  sleepless  and  in  pain.  He  is  patient  with  pain 
and  neglect  and  loneliness.  But  he  has  lost  some 
thing  precious.  Something  dearer  than  health.  I 
think  it  is  you,  Mercedes,  —  and  his  faith.  Last 


202  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

night,  he  seemed  to  be  ill.  I  saw  him  before  me  every 
instant.  A  poor  man  in  a  hut,  with  one  soul  near  to 
love  and  comprehend  him,  is  better  off.  I  saw  you 
too,  smiling,  and  bewitching,  —  I  never  saw  any  one 
as  lovely  as  you,  —  and  I  thought,  if  he  is  wretched, 
so  is  she ;  if  his  life  has  no  love  and  faith,  hers  too 
is  cold,  and  perhaps,  as  the  years  go  by,  hers  will  be 
the  more  cruel,  for  one  could  imagine  his  spirit  free  in 
spite  of  his  bonds,  while  her  chains  must  grow  heavier 
in  time.  But  these  were  only  my  thoughts  —  and  it  is 
not  too  late,  Mercedes."  Her  voice  sounded  glad  and 
sure  as  if  heralding  good  tidings.  "  Dear  Mercedes  !  " 
she  exclaimed. 

At  last  Mercedes  raised  her  head.  Her  hair  was 
slightly  roughened,  her  cheeks  were  flushed,  her  eyes 
singularly  brilliant,  and  she  began  in  the  half  affec 
tionate,  half  mocking  tone,  which  she  was  apt  to  use 
with  Gabrielle  :  — 

"  My  dear  child,  it  all  sounds  beautiful,  but  it  is  too 
late,  —  just  six-and-twenty  years  and  five  months  too 
late." 

"  I  do  not  see  why,"  returned  Gabrielle  quickly. 
"  You  would  say  to  the  marquis  :  '  Marquis,  forgive 
me ;  I  have  made  a  great  mistake,  but  I  should  make 
a  worse  one  for  you  and  for  me,  if  I  should  marry 
you.'  You  would  say  to  the  countess  :  4  Mamma,  I 
simply  cannot  and  will  not  marry  him.'  Then  you 
would  come  straight  to  the  villa,  and  pass  through 
the  long  corridor  to  Count  Hugo's  rooms,  and  knock. 
He  would  call,  '  Come  in,'  quite  indifferently.  And 
the  door  would  open,  —  and  it  would  be  you  —  you, 
Mercedes,  standing  there  —  and  from  that  moment, 
his  life  would  be  glad !  " 

Mercedes  made  a  hasty  gesture,  as  if  she  would  in- 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  203 

terrupt,  but  let  the  young  girl  go  on,  and  finish  the 
picture,  which  seemed  to  her  so  defined  in  its  outlines, 
so  easy  of  execution,  and  which  brought  a  succession 
of  emotions  to  the  listener's  face,  and  finally  a  smile  at 
Gabrielle's  preposterous  simplicity. 

"  Oh,  you  little  Donna  Quixote  !  Are  you  going  to 
make  the  crooked  straight  and  redress  all  wrongs? 
Do  you  intend  to  tell  the  little  Mayers  that  they  will 
kill  themselves  if  they  lace  so  unconscionably  ?  Now 
I  personally  think  that  it  is  not  of  the  slightest  impor 
tance,  whether  they  squeeze  their  various  minute  organs 
out  of  existence  or  not,  and  I  should  never  feel  called 
to  the  holy  mission  of  expostulation." 

The  light  of  enthusiasm  faded  from  Gabrielle's 
face.  As  she  had  warmed  with  her  subject,  she  per 
suaded  herself  with  happy  confidence  that  all  would 
yet  be  well.  But  Mercedes'  raillery  discouraged  her 
at  last,  and  she  looked  pained  and  doubtful,  as  she 
replied  :  — 

"You  mean  that  I  am  meddlesome." 

"  No,  a  thousand  times,  no  !  "  Mercedes  exclaimed 
warmly.  "  It  is  only  that  you  are  wasting  time  and 
feeling  on  me,  and  I  am  not  worth  it.  What  you  say 
is  true,  or  would  be  true,  if  I  were  like  you.  I  am  not 
in  the  least  like  you,  and  you  forget  that." 

"  Nothing  that  you  say  of  yourself  makes  any  differ 
ence,"  Gabrielle  returned  eagerly,  brightening  again 
with  Mercedes'  cordial  tone.  "  I  am  so  sorry  to  be 
intrusive.  Aunt  Adelheid  complains  that  I  have  no 
tact,  and  she  is  perfectly  right.  But  let  me  speak  out 
this  once." 

"  What,  have  you  not  spoken  '  out,'  yet  ?  You 
surely  cannot  surpass  this  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  may  laugh  at  me  as  much  as  you  wish, 


204  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

Mercedes.  I  do  not  feel  that  I  have  said  anything,  — 
not  anything  at  all  yet.  Or  if  I  have,  I  have  said  it 
so  badly  that  it  makes  no  impression.  But  imagine  it 
said  cleverly,  —  with  '  tact,'  "  she  pleaded,  laughing  a 
little  in  spite  of  her  earnestness,  and  looking  wistfully 
at  her  friend.  "  Let  me  try  again.  I  think  that  I  see 
a  danger  threatening  you.  I  see  it  and  feel  it.  Then 
why  should  I  not  warn  you  ?  One  lesson  I  have 
learned  for  all  my  life.  If  you  live  with  some  one  who 
loves  you  and  comprehends  you,  with  whom  you  are 
fearless  and  free,  whose  nature  you  reach  and  rest  upon, 
whose  sympathy  you  need  like  sunshine  and  air,  why 
that  is  the  most  beautiful  thing  on  earth,  whether  the 
some  one  be  your  father  or  your  mother,  your  sister  or 
brother,  or  lover  or  husband  or  friend.  But  if  you 
live  intimately  with  a  person  who  does  not  love  you, 
and  whom  you  do  not  love,  who  misinterprets  every 
word  and  look,  who  suspects  you  and  makes  you  sus 
picious,  who  crushes  you,  hurts  you,  rouses  all  that  is 
mean  in  you,  and  there  is  no  escape  from  her  —  I 
mean  from  the  person  —  why  that  is,  I  won't  say  the 
most  miserable  thing  in  the  world,  for  there  may  be 
something  worse,  but  it  is  the  worst  that  I  know,  and 
it  is  a  bad  thing,  Mercedes,  —  a  very  bad  thing,  an 
ugly  thing  !  That  is  why  I  dare  to  ask  you  what  will 
^our  life  with  the  Marquis  de  Yallion  be  ?  What  can 
he  give  you  ?  What  can  you  give  him  ?  What  kind 
of  companionship  would  that  be  ?  Oh,  Mercedes, 
Mercedes,  it  will  be  terrible  !  " 

"  What  !  So  impassioned  ?  Actually,  tears  in 
your  eyes !  But,  Gabrielle,  believe  me,  it  is  not  so 
tragic.  They  are  not  going  to  burn  me  alive.  There 
is  no  sacrifice,  no  compulsion.  I  wish  to  marry  the 
marquis." 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  205 

\ 

44  You  wish  to  marry  the  marquis  ?  "  faltered  Gabri- 
eUe. 

44  That  is,  I  do  not  ardently  desire  to  marry  any  one. 
But  since  it  is  about  time  that  I  should  marry,  —  in 
fact,  my  sisters  accuse  me,  with  some  justice,  of  cul 
pable  delay,  —  he  will  answer  my  purpose." 

44  But  why  must  you  marry  ?  " 

44  Why  ?  Really,  Gabrielle,  your  4  why  '  is  ubiqui 
tous.  You  question  self-evident  truths  ;  but  since  you 
insist  upon  categorical  answers,  —  after  a  certain  age 
one  is  less  comfortable  and  free,  unmarried.  One  is 
a  little  absurd,  you  know.  I  could  be  a  4  Stiftsdame  ' 
as  a  last  refuge,  of  course.  But  I  have  no  talent  for 
retirement,  and  the  intimate  society  of  other  women 
is,  to  speak  mildly,  obnoxious  to  me.  No,  I  greatly 
prefer  men, — even  the  marquis.  Now  it  's  my  turn 
to  question.  Why  are  you  not  more  charitable,  —  like 
Frau  von  Funnel,  for  instance?  How  do  you  know 
that  you  are  not  doing  the  marquis  injustice  ?  How 
can  you  prove  that  he  has  not  some  hidden  charm, 
some  grace  that  only  I  perceive  ?  It  is  evident  that  I 
do  not  marry  him  for  his  youth,  or  strength,  or  beauty, 
or  intellect,  but  how  can  you  be  sure  that  he  has  not 
irresistible  heart-qualities  ?  How  can  you  reconcile  it 
with  your  conscience  to  jump  at  conclusions  in  this 
manner  —  and  doubt  the  elevation  of  my  sentiments?" 

44  That 's  not  fair,"  Gabrielle  returned,  hurt  and 
offended.  44 1  don't  deserve  that." 

44  No,  I  don't  think  you  do,"  Mercedes  admitted 
reflectively  ;  44 1  rather  like  a  fencing  match,  but  I  see 
that  you  are  in  no  mood  for  one,  and  then  I  confess, 
although  you  have  said  very  droll  things  to  me,  —  in 
fact,  from  any  one  else  I  should  consider  them  imper 
tinent,  —  I  do  not  regard  you  as  an  enemy  to  be  routed. 


206  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

You  have  been  honest  with  me,  and  I  like  you  for  it, 
particularly,  as  I  cannot  discover  what,  in  any  event, 
you  have  to  gain  by  it." 

She  spoke  in  a  light,  laughing  voice,  with  much  ani 
mation  of  manner  and  gesture,  and  a  charming  and 
friendly  smile. 

"Now  my  honesty  is  not  your  honesty,"  she  contin 
ued,  "  but  it  is  the  best  I  can  produce,  and  such  as  it 
is,  you  shall  have  it.  I  do  not  deny  that  you  have 
said  things  that  move  me  this  morning,  that  make  me 
think,  even  regret,  —  softened  me,  don't  you  know  ? 
Yes,  'softened'  is  the  word  in  Sunday-school  books, 
hardened  reprobates  always  become  4  softened '  — 
but  it  won't  last,  child !  Nothing  lasts  with  me. 
I  am  fickle  as  the  wind,  except  in  one  respect  —  my 
ambition.  I  must  have  power,  and  one  wants  more, 
not  less,  as  one  grows  old,  and  one's  beauty  goes.  I 
don't  care  to  live  without  it.  I  want  balls,  and  din 
ners,  and  toilettes,  and  admiration.  I  adore  the  world. 
I  pretend  that  I  am  weary  of  it.  I  may  be  now  and 
then.  But  I  cannot  live  without  it.  I  can  talk  about 
solitude  and  purling  brooks  and  self-communion,  but 
they  would  be  insufferable  to  me.  So  you  see,  you 
dear,  queer  little  prophet,  before  you  rescue  me  you 
must  construct,  not  new  circumstances  alone,  but  a  new 
Mercedes.  Cheer  up,  then,  and  wish  me  joy.  I  shall 
be  a  gracious  embassadress,  hospitable  and  indulgent 
to  the  foibles  of  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil. 
My  married  life  will  be  perfection,  for  the  marquis  and 
I  shall  meet  too  rarely  to  quarrel.  I  shall  drive  and 
dance  and  chat  with  all  my  old  friends  as  to-day,  ex 
cept  I  shall  be  freer  to  amuse  myself,  and  infinitely 
more  important  than  Mercedes  Waldenberg." 

"  And  Hugo  ?  "  demanded  Gabrielle  abruptly. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  207 

Mercedes  turned,  walked  down  the  room  and  back, 
came  close  to  Gabrielle,  put  her  hands  on  the  young 
girl's  shoulders,  met  her  direct  questioning  gaze  with 
an  inscrutable  smile,  and  said  kindly  :  — 

"  You  are  a  great  child.  You  insist  upon  pressing 
your  finger  on  old  wounds,  and  you  are  more  merciless 
than  you  know.  Never  mind.  This  is  my  first  and 
last  confession.  You  have  roused  me  to  a  certain  ex 
citement.  Did  I  not  prophesy  that  you  would  be  as 
interesting  as  lovers  ?  My  dear,  the  kindest  deed 
that  I  can  do  Hugo  von  Kronfels  is  never  to  see  him 
again.  Do  you  think  that  I  have  not  considered? 
Can  you  possibly  imagine  that  I  did  not  weigh  every 
thing  in  the  balance  those  first  days  when  he  lay  be 
tween  life  and  death,  and  later  when  his  old  comrades 
were  denied  admittance,  and  I  heard  how  gloomy  and 
changed  he  was  ?  Do  you  suppose  that  I  did  not  know 
in  my  heart  that  he  was  waiting  for  me  ?  Have  I  not 
longed  a  thousand  times  to  steal  through  that  corridor, 
as  you  say,  and  knock  and  go  in  ?  " 

"  But  Mercedes,  see,'*  Gabrielle  urged  impetuously, 
"you  think  yourself  there.  That  is  almost  being 
there.  It  is  still  not  too  late.  You  have  the  choice." 

"  No,  no,  I  have  no  choice." 

"  It  is  cruel,"  murmured  Gabrielle  ;  "  I  would  go  to 
him,  if  I  had  to  crawl !  " 

"  Then  what  prevents  you  ? "  Mercedes  retorted 
calmly,  smoothing  a  knot  of  ribbon  on  her  sleeve. 

"  He  —  he  prevents  me,"  said  Gabrielle  innocently. 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  remember." 

"  I  pity  him  with  all  my  heart,  and  I  feel  his  pres 
ence  always." 

"  I  understand ;  and  that   made  you   exaggerate." 

"  I  pitied  you,  too." 


208  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Envy  me,"  returned  Mercedes,  airily,  "  for  I  shall 
have  what  I  wish.  I  simply  must  have  brightness  and 
gayety  and  excitement.  I  have  a  horror  of  pain  and 
illness  and  darkened  rooms  and  fumigation  and  all 
that.  I  don't  think  there  is  a  phenomenon  in  the  uni 
verse  so  wonderful  to  me  as  a  woman  who  deliberately 
chooses  to  be  a  nurse,  unless  it  is  a  man  who  elects  to 
be  a  doctor.  I  faint  at  the  sight  of  blood.  I  hate  and 
fear  physical  pain.  You  may  call  it  what  you  will, 
but  I  could  not  bear  to  see  Hugo  Kronfels  crippled. 
I  did  not  dare  to  see  him.  I  am  a  mean  coward,  you 
see,  but  this  is  why  I  did  not  go  and  knock,  and  enact 
the  charming  little  comedy  on  the  lines  which  you  have 
indicated." 

"  Oh,  Mercedes,  Mercedes  I  " 

"  I  could  not  look  upon  him  broken  and  helpless, 
he  was  so  full  of  splendid  life.  If  I  should  see  him 
now,  I  should  be  afraid  of  him.  I  should  turn  away 
from  him  in  horror.  I  should  have  no  comfort  to 
give  him.  As  to  marrying  him,  which  you  ingenuously 
suggest,  without  even  knowing  that  he  wants  me,  —  it 
would  be  living  death  to  me  to  spend  my  days  in  an 
invalid's  room.  It  would  be  a  tomb.  For  me,  Hugo 
died  last  September.  Voila  tout !  " 

"  Ah,"  sighed  Gabrielle,  "  I  have  made  a  great 
mistake  ;  I  thought  that  you  were  his  friend." 

Mercedes  gave  her  a  quick,  keen  look,  but  saw  that 
no  sting  lay  in  the  girl's  words,  only  simple,  sorrowful 
conviction. 

"  You  have  been  constructing  a  little  romance,  my 
dear,"  Mercedes  began  in  a  soothing  tone,  after  a  pro 
longed  pause.  "  You  have  put  together  what  you 
have  heard  and  seen,  and  more  that  you  have  felt 
and  imagined,  and  it  is  no  wonder  that  you  take 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  209 

refuge  in  your  own  thoughts,  for  you  certainly  can't 
follow  the  countess's  ;  but  now  you  see  that  you  have 
exaggerated,  that  you  are  fanciful  and  morbid,  that 
everything  is  exactly  as  it  should  be,  and  that  I  am 
most  contented,  if  not  blindly  infatuated  with  my 
lot.  Let  me  give  you  a  bit  of  advice,  my  dear  girl : 
don't  run  about  appealing  to  people's  better  natures. 
They  might  not  all  enjoy  it  as  much  as  I  do."  She 
was  smiling  constantly,  and  very  curiously,  as  she 
went  on  in  her  quizzical  fashion  :  "  Take  us  sinners 
as  we  are,  that  is,  as  we  seem,  and  you  '11  find  us  very 
good  company." 

Gabrielle  for  her  only  answer  put  both  arms  round 
Mercedes,  held  her  close  an  instant,  and  kissed  her 
warmly  on  the  mouth.  "  I  will  go.  I  have  been 
stupid,  and  I  have  done  no  good." 

"  I  don't  imagine  that  you  have  done  much  good," 
Mercedes  rejoined  gayly.  u  On  the  other  hand,  you 
certainly  have  done  no  harm,  except,  perhaps,  to  that 
pretty  wing  in  your  hat,  on  my  shoulder  just  now. 
By  the  way,  how  becoming  that  hat  is  !  " 

"  Mercedes,  of  course  I  don't  believe  half  that  you 
say  of  yourself." 

"  That  proves  your  perspicacity,  my  dear  child.  If 
you  were  still  wiser,  you  would  not  believe  a  word 
that  I  say  —  of  myself,  or  anybody  else.  I  do  not,  on 
principle." 

"  But  I  believe  in  you." 

"  Still  ?  Ah,  what  courage  !  Now  I  shall  imagine 
you  walking  home  snipping  and  snapping  with  your 
dear  little  scissors  !  " 

"  My  scissors  ?  " 

"Yes,  your  little  scissors,"  Mercedes  said  caress 
ingly,  "  such  as  they  give  children,  with  blunt  points, 


210  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

you  know,  that  don't  hurt.  I  testify  that  they  don't 
hurt.  You  intend  to  cut  all  the  intricate  knots  you 
see  with  them.  You  think,  with  fearlessness  and  a 
snip-snap,  the  deed  is  done.  But  the  world's  meshes, 
you  will  find,  are  too  tangled  and  tough  for  you,  and 
reach  down  strong  roots  into  the  nether  regions,  and 
have  an  evil  life  of  their  own." 

"  Oh,  do  not  fear.  I  have  nothing  special  to  say 
to  any  one  else.  It  was  only  to  you.  I  shall  try  to 
cut  no  other  knots  now." 

"  Not  even  the  little  Mayers'  corset-lacings  ?  Then 
I  ought  to  feel  flattered,  indeed." 

"How  extremely  disagreeable  I  must  have  been, 
since  you  find  it  necessary  to  punish  me  with  so 
much  derision,"  Gabrielle  returned,  drawing  on  her 
gloves. 

"High-minded  people  are  mostly  unpleasant,  but 
indeed  you  have  been  charming,"  Mercedes  sweetly 
assured  her. 

"  Forgive  me,  and  don't  let  it  make  any  difference 
between  us.  You  are  sure  it  won't  make  you  like  me 
less?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  think  you  the  most  adorable 
little  missionary  that  ever  "  — 

"  Ah,  don't !  "  exclaimed  Gabrielle  with  impatience. 
"I  can't  bear  any  more  of  that."  After  a  moment 
she  said  gravely  :  "I  wish  everybody  were  as  honest 
and  good  as  you,  Mercedes."  To  Mercedes'  incredu 
lous  disclaimer.  "  Oh,  of  course  I  cannot  pretend  to 
answer  you.  There  is  so  much  that  is  incomprehensi 
ble  to  me,  and  it  all  seemed  so  simple  and  clear  last 
night.  I  have  been  very  odious  and  presumptuous, 
and  yet,  —  what  I  said  is  true  !  r  she  concluded 
suddenly. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  211 

"  Bravo  !  A  sentiment  worthy  of  Galileo ! ' 

"  I  shall  think  about  it  "  — 

"Shall  you?    Now  why?    I  would  n't.     I  never 

think." 

"You  have  been  very  patient  with  me,  Mercedes, 
and  I  believe  in  you,  thoroughly." 

"You  could  not  hang  your  faith  upon  a  looser 
peg,"  laughed  Mercedes.  "Do  come  again,"  she 
urged  in  her  most  gracious,  indulgent,  and  cordial 
manner.  "  Come  some  morning  next  week,  and," 
with  her  gleaming,  mischievous  smile,  "  don't  forget 
to  bring  your  scissors  ! ' 

Gabrielle  was  hardly  gone  when  Mercedes  locked 
her  doors.  Neither  to  the  knocks  of  the  servants, 
nor  to  the  impatient  demands  of  her  sister  Elsa,  and, 
finally,  not  to  the  repeated  and  hortatory  appeal  of 
the  maternal  voice,  did  she  deign  the  faintest  re 
sponse.  The  Countess  Waldenberg,  in  spite  of  her 
august  multiplicity  of  ancestors,  hung  about  the  cor 
ridor  like  any  helpless  and  plebeian  mortal,  stood 
irresolute,  frowned,  gave  the  door-knob  a  parting, 
futile  shake,  returned  to  the  drawing-room,  and 
blandly  announced  to  the  marquis  that  "darling 
Mercedes  was  so  sorry,  but  she  had  a  violent  head 
ache,  and  really  felt  too  ill  to  receive  him.  She  sent 
her  dearest  love,  and  would  try  to  come  down  by 
evening."  The  countess  asked  the  marquis  if  he  did 
not  think  it  might  be  electric.  The  marquis  agreed 
with  the  countess  that  it  probably  was  electric.  The 
countess  remarked  that  so  many  headaches  nowadays 
were  electric  ;  in  fact,  most  things  were  electric,  more 
or  less,  were  they  not? 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

As  the  influence  of  Mercedes'  fascinating  personal 
ity  grew  fainter,  Gabrielle's  flouted  convictions  re 
assembled  and  formed  in  stalwart  line,  stronger  and 
surer  than  before.  There  had  been  moments  during 
the  conversation  when  she  had  half  doubted  if  she 
were  not,  after  all,  interfering  in  her  neighbor's  pri 
vate  affairs,  like  any  other  busybody.  The  conscious 
ness  of  meaning  well  was  but  a  meagre  consolation, 
while  Mercedes'  playful  parting  thrusts  seemed  to 
give  her  the  victory,  and  Gabrielle  a  sense  of  soreness 
and  discomfiture.  "  It  is  very  confusing,  this  life 
they  wanted  me  to  see,"  she  thought,  as  she  walked 
rapidly  homeward,  "  but  all  the  same,  I  am  glad  that 
I  spoke  to  Mercedes.  It  is  better  than  to  think  it  all 
and  not  dare  to  say  it." 

At  the  villa  gates,  she  stood  hesitating  whether  to 
go  in,  or  on  and  down  the  lane.  Over  the  hedge 
drooped  branches  of  long  yellow  laburnum  blossoms 
like  golden  rain,  amid  masses  of  rosy  hawthorn  and 
pale,  feathery  young  willow  leaves ;  the  dense  foliage, 
in  its  May  freshness,  completely  screening  every  shady 
nook  and  path  of  the  old  garden  from  the  curious 
passer-by. 

"  It  is  enchanting  in  there.  It  is  a  little  wildwood. 
I  wish  I  might  go  in,  but  since  Count  Hugo  likes  it, 
and  does  n't  like  me,  and  might  happen  to  come  out 
this  very  morning,  it  seems  rather  mean  for  me  to 
risk  meeting  him.  Still  I  might  take  a  little  run,  for 
he  was  surely  ill  last  night,  and  the  countess  is  still 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  213 

at  her  toilette.  It  is  a  pity  for  nobody  to  get  a 
glimpse  of  all  the  lilacs  and  apple-blossoms  and  sweet 
fresh  things  that  are  perfuming  half  the  street.  But 
perhaps  I  'd  better  go  in  the  house  and  try  to  re 
connoitre  first.  He  has  been  in  an  age  now,  and  if 
he  should  by  chance  come  out  to-day,  it  would  be  very 
discouraging  to  him  to  meet  me  at  once.  Dear,  dear, 
iiow  unfortunate  it  all  is  !  " 

But  with  her  hand  on  the  gate,  she  paused  and 
turned  again,  for  Mousey,  without  his  protective  col 
lar  and  bell,  and  wearing  a  blue  embroidered  blanket 
with  a  count's  coronet  worked  in  silver  in  one  corner, 
capered  suddenly  into  notice,  and  greeted  her  with  sig 
nificant  gestures  and  wicked  leers  and  winks. 

"  What,  Mousey,  alone  ?  Who  ought  to  be  on  duty  ? 
You  little  yellow,  four-legged,  inhuman  —  count!  " 

He  ran  a  short  distance  up  the  street,  then  stood 
and  looked  to  see  if  she  were  coming. 

Gabrielle  glanced  into  the  garden ;  no  servant  was 
visible. 

"  Evidently  I  must  go  with  him.  He  probably  only 
wishes  to  show  his  contempt  for  the  workmen." 

She  followed  him,  seated  herself  on  a  block  of 
sandstone,  watched  the  builders,  and  listened  to  the 
incessant,  irregular  fall  of  the  mallets.  Dietz  was  up 
aloft  at  his  post.  He  pulled  off  his  paper  cap  as  he 
saw  her,  and  went  on  hammering  contentedly,  whis 
tling  an  amorous  ditty  to  his  heavy-eyed  goddess. 
Gabrielle  spoke  to  some  of  the  men.  They  liked  her 
not  only  because  they  had  seen  her  rescue  the  babies, 
and  perform  other  acts  of  good- will  and  common  sense 
to  vagabond  children,  but  for  the  simple  reason  that 
she  seemed  to  like  them.  The  masons  in  their  shirts 
of  many  colors,  the  rolled-up  sleeves  showing  sun- 


214  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

burned  muscular  arms,  were  stooping  over  the  great 
blocks,  and  looked  warm. 

"  How  goes  it,  Peter  ?  "  she  said  to  the  scowler. 

"  Bad,"  he  muttered,  "bad  and  worse." 

"  Now  that  's  a  pity,"  she  returned  cheerily. 

"  '  That  's  a  pity  '  is  easy  to  say,"  remarked  Peter 
sullenly,  always  eager  to  mount  his  hobby. 

The  other  men  grinned  and  looked  curiously  at  the 
pretty  young  lady. 

"  I  know  it  is  easier  to  talk  than  to  work,"  Gabri- 
elle  rejoined  conciliatingly. 

"  I  could  tell  you  things,"  he  began,  glaring  at  her 
as  if  she  were  the  embodiment  of  the  world's  tyranny, 
and  all  the  wrongs  inflicted  by  capital  upon  labor,  "  I 
could  tell  you  things  that  would  make  your  hair  stand 
on  end." 

"  I  am  sure  that  you  could,  and  I  should  like  to 
listen  to  you  some  day  when  we  both  have  time.  It  's 
warmer  to-day,  Peter." 

"  It 's  hot  for  such  as  have  to  earn  their  bread  in 
the  sweat  of  their  brows,"  and  Peter  ostentatiously 
wiped  his  forehead  on  his  sleeve. 

"  Yes,  so  I  am  going  to  send  you  out  something  cool 
to  drink  this  afternoon,  some  light  cold  punch ;  enough 
for  you  men  here  under  this  shed." 

u  I  'm  obliged  to  you,  miss,"  Peter  began  gloomily, 
"  but  my  principles  "  — 

"  Oh,"  she  said  smiling,  "  the  punch  has  nothing  to 
do  with  principles,  nothing  at  all,  I  assure  you.  One 
is  thirsty,  you  know,  whatever  one's  principles  may  be." 

A  laugh  of  assent  and  approval  greeted  this  state 
ment,  and  the  men  pulled  off  their  caps  with  hearty 
smiles,  one  of  them  finding  his  tongue  only  when  she 
had  gone  a  few  steps  toward  the  villa.  "  Thank  you 


THE   OPEN  DOOK.  215 

kindly,  miss,"  he  called  after  her,  "  and  if  Peter  don't 
want  his  share,  he  won't  have  any  trouble  in  borrow 
ing  a  throat  for  it." 

"  Peter  is  chronically  cross,"  she  reflected,  "  but  not 
crosser,  after  all,  than  the  countess,  and  in  her  case,  at 
least,  it  is  not  overwork  that  has  ruined  her  disposi 
tion.  Mousey,  will  you  be  quiet  ?  I  know  that  you 
object  to  the  workmen,  because  you  are  an  incorrigi 
ble  snob,  but  I  shall  talk  with  whom  I  please,  sir,  and 
you  may  remonstrate  until  you  burst." 

It  was  impossible  to  associate  with  Mousey  and  not 
converse  with  him.  His  moral  character  may  have 
been  perverted,  venomous,  and  a  bottomless  pit  of 
treachery,  but  his  acumen  commanded  respect,  and  his 
humor  induced  companionship. 

"  What  are  you  trying  to  tell  me,  Mousey  ?  Some 
thing  unpleasant  of  course,  or  you  would  n't  grin  in 
that  fiendish  manner  and  feel  so  sportive."  She 
glanced  up  as  she  passed  Dietz'  balcony.  He  was 
neither  singing  nor  working,  but  standing  motionless, 
shading  his  eyes  with  his  hand,  and  peering  between 
the  tree-tops  into  the  villa  garden. 

Mousey  mirthfully  persisted  in  making  his  myste 
rious  and  unintelligible  communications. 

"  There  is  no  doubt  that  you  are  cleverer  than  we. 
Mousey.  You  always  understand  us,  and  we  rarely 
understand  you." 

Mousey  put  his  head  on  one  side  and  cocked  an  eye 
at  her,  superciliously  intimating  that  the  obtuseness  of 
the  human  intellect  had  long  since  ceased  to  surprise 
him. 

As  she  reached  the  garden  gate,  it  was  violently 
flung  open  and  Roschen  in  peculiar  agitation  gasped  : 

"  Mousey,  what   a  fright  you  have  given    me !     I 


216  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

was  looking  everywhere.  What  a  mercy  he  was  with 
the  gracious  fraulein  !  " 

"  But  Roschen,  it  was  the  merest  chance  that  I  saw 
him  outside  the  gates.  You  really  should  not  leave 
him  an  instant.  Where  were  you  ?  " 

The  girl  turned  away  uneasily  and  did  not  reply. 

"  Your  orders  are  strict,  and  you  know  perfectly 
well  that  you  would  lose  your  place  to-day,  if  I  should 
choose  to  report." 

The  brown  eyes  of  the  maid  shot  into  the  brown 
eyes  of  the  baroness  a  glance  of  defiance  and  mistrust. 

"  The  gracious  fraulein  is  too  kind,"  murmured 
Roschen. 

"  I  certainly  shall  not  mention  the  circumstance," 
Gabrielle  rejoined  coldly,  "  though  it 's  no  question  of 
kindness.  Only  if  you  are  in  charge  of  the  dog,  be 
faithful  and  watch  him  well." 

As  she  gave  this  injunction,  she  looked  intently  at 
the  girl,  and  noticed  that  her  cheeks  were  flushed,  her 
eyes  excited. 

"  There  's  a  visitor,"  stammered  Roschen. 

"  Well?  "  said  Gabrielle  indifferently. 

"  And  the  countess  is  in  a  state,  because  the  gra 
cious  fraulein  is  out." 

"  She  wants  me  ?  " 

"  She  is  n't  dressed.  She  was  rubbing  Mousey's 
lungs  longer  than  usual.  She  said  his  bronchial  tube 
was  husky.  That 's  why  he 's  got  his  blanket  on. 
She  said,"  continued  the  girl  with  insensible  literal- 
ness,  "that  it  was  ridiculous  the  gracious  fraulein 
should  be  gadding  about,  Heaven  knew  where,  just 
when  for  once  in  her  life  she  could  make  herself  a  little 
useful,  and  "  — 

"  Never  mind  that,  Roschen.     You  need  not  repeat 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  217 

the  countess's  remarks.  Whatever  she  wishes  to  say 
to  me  she  will  tell  me  herself.  Who  is  the  visitor  ?  " 

"  The  Baron  von  Raven,"  answered  the  maid  with  a 
great  rush  of  high  color  up  to  her  curly  hair,  and  pull 
ing  her  white  apron  nervously  with  her  heavy  square- 
tipped  fingers. 

Gabrielle's  face  fell. 

"I  don't  feel  like  talking  with  him,"  she  thought. 

Mousey,  like  a  spoiled  precocious  boy  that  under 
stands  his  elders'  annoyances,  drew  his  lips  in  and  out 
with  queer  grimaces,  watched  her  mockingly,  and 
danced  with  delight. 

"  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  In  the  small  reception  room  down-stairs.  Shall  I 
open  the  doors  for  the  gracious  friiulein?  " 

"  Certainly  not,"  the  baroness  answered  in  cold  sur 
prise.  "  You  stay  with  Mousey.  And  you  'd  better 
take  him  into  the  back  garden,"  she  added,  with  a 
vague  remembrance  that  Roschen  always  seemed  to 
be  hovering  conspicuously  about  whenever  Lieutenant 
von  Raven  came. 

The  girl  looked  obstinate.  "  I  'm  to  follow  Mousey," 
she  retorted  sullenly.  "  I  'in  allowed  on  the  lawn  and 
the  front  drive  and  wherever  Mousey  likes." 

"  That  is  true,  Roschen,"  Gabrielle  admitted  gravely, 
and  went  toward  the  house. 

The  rosy  young  maid  let  Mousey  commune  with  him 
self,  and  devour  what  he  pleased,  and  snarl  and  choke, 
while  she  stood  reflecting  in  her  dull  way  upon  the  in 
justice  of  fate  that  sent  baronesses  to  talk  with  beauti 
ful  clanking  lieutenants,  and  let  maids  keep  dog-watch. 
She  began  to  pace  the  lawn  directly  in  front  of  the 
house,  where  neither  man  nor  mouse  could  come  out 
without  meeting  her  face  to  face,  and  Bernhard  Dietz 


218  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

caught  glimpses  of  her  bare  brown  head  in  the  sun 
shine,  and  singing,  blessed  it,  and  blessing  it,  sang, 
and  asked  nothing  more  of  the  gods. 

Gabrielle  went  directly  in  to  the  lieutenant. 

"  You  have  been  waiting  long,  they  tell  me,  baron," 
she  said  kindly. 

He  gallantly  protested  that  it  was  a  pleasure  to  wait 
for  her,  and  added  that  it  was  a  fine  day. 

To  this  she  assented  and  remarked  that  she  had  en 
joyed  her  walk. 

"  Countess  well,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  Thanks,  she  is  as  usual.  She  will  come  down  soon, 
I  think." 

"  And  Hugo,  poor  fellow  ?  " 

"  Thanks,  there  is  little  change,  I  believe." 

u  Asked  for  him.     Would  n't  see  me." 

"  Ah  ?  " 

"  Sad  case,  Hugo's." 

"  Very,"  Gabrielle  said  coldly.  She  had  been  plead 
ing  Hugo's  cause  too  fervently  with  Mercedes  to  dis 
cuss  him  again  with  the  florid  lieutenant. 

Von  Raven,  having  acquitted  himself  of  his  conven 
tional  obligations,  now  advanced  cheerfully  to  the  main 
object  of  his  visit. 

"  Going  to  be  festival,"  he  announced  with  a  gleam 
of  enthusiasm.  "  Tournament.  Sixteenth  century. 
Maximilian.  Gold  brocade.  Wigs.  Knights.  Pages. 
All  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  Yes,  I  have  heard  of  it.  It  will  be  interesting,  no 
doubt.  I  presume  that  you  will  ride." 

"  In  a  half  dozen  different  costumes.  No  end  of 
things.  But  there  's  a  quadrille  with  ladies.  Choice. 
Gracious  fraulein,  could  I  have  the  honor  ?  " 

"  Oh  thanks,  but  I  don't  think  I  would  care  for  that," 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  219 

Gabrielle  began.  "  I  should  like  to  see  it,  but  it  would 
be  a  little  like  a  circus,  would  it  not  ?  Eight  ladies 
and  thousands  of  spectators,  and  one's  hair  flying, 
as  somebody  told  me.  Thank  you  very  much,  but  I 
would  rather  not  ride." 

"  You  can't  mean  it,"  exclaimed  von  Raven.  "  La 
dies  wild  about  it.  All  want  to  ride.  Only  eight  can. 
Charity." 

Gabrielle  laughed  in  frank  amusement. 

"  They  do  such  droll  things  for  charity  here." 

"  Droll  ?  "  repeated  the  young  man  somewhat  bewil 
dered,  "  this  will  be  great.  Whole  court.  Toilettes. 
Benevolent  object." 

He  wondered  why  she  laughed  still.  His  face  was 
eager  and  boyish,  and  not  disappointed  at  her  refusal, 
because  he  could  not  believe  that  any  girl  in  her  right 
mind  would  decline  such  an  invitation. 

"  Ask  some  one  who  is  wild  to  ride,  for  indeed  I  am 
quite  tame  and  would  much  rather  be  a  spectator." 

"  Gracious  fraulein  is  joking  ?  "  staring  doubtfully 
at  her. 

"No,  no,  I  am  quite  serious.  I  thank  you  very 
much,  but  I  would  prefer  not  to  ride  at  the  festival." 

"  Of  course  she  will  ride  at  the  festival,"  said  the 
countess  blandly,  entering  the  room  and  welcoming  von 
Raven  with  marked  graciousness.  "A  young  girl's 
No  often  means  Yes,  baron.  Frau  von  Funnel  has 
just  written  me  that  it  will  be  the  event  of  the  season. 
My  niece  will  be  charmed  to  ride,  I  assure  you." 

Her  tone  was  indulgent  and  slightly  sportive,  as  if 
she  were  opposing  the  whim  of  a  three-year-old  child. 
Von  Raven  beamed  with  pleasure  and  gratitude  for 
her  support.  But  Gabrielle,  rising  haughtily,  turned 
to  him  with  composure  :  — 


220  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  I  have  already  given  you  my  answer,  Herr  von 
Raven,  and  if  you  will  allow  me,  I  will  now  bid  you 
good- morning."  With  a  slight  inclination  toward  the 
astonished  countess,  she  left  the  room. 

Immediately  after  lunch  that  day,  in  the  hour  usu 
ally  devoted  by  the  countess  to  a  cigarette,  a  glass  of 
t-ura9oa,  a  brief  siesta,  a  glance  at  Figaro,  a  period  of 
love-making  to  Mousey,  the  special  torture  of  Babette, 
and  a  few  last  touches  on  the  toilette,  and  by  Gabri- 
elle  to  books,  there  was  a  significant  and  ceremonious 
interchange  of  cards  and  messages  between  two  persons 
in  Villa  Kronfels  who  ordinarily  had  no  communica 
tion  whatever,  while  Roschen,  inquisitive  and  alert, 
and  Lipps,  equally  curious,  but  mindful  of  the  dignity 
of  "our  wing,"  felt  that  life  at  the  moment  was  worth 
living. 

Gabrielle  for  her  part  was  by  no  means  sure  that  it 
was.  Lunch  had  been  a  heavily  disastrous  experience. 
She  had  taken  refuge  in  her  room  in  extreme  cha 
grin  and  helplessness,  when  a  sudden  idea  seemed  to 
suggest  a  possible  way  out  of  her  labyrinth. 

She  hesitated,  but  not  long,  and  rang  for  Roschen. 
"  I  can  try,  at  least,  and  if  I  do  not  succeed  I  shall 
be  no  worse  off  than  I  am  now,  at  all  events." 

"  Take  this  to  Lipps,  please,"  she  said,  giving  the 
maid  an  envelope. 

"To  Lipps?" 

"  To  Lipps,"  Gabrielle  repeated  with  emphasis. 

A  few  moments  later  Hugo  read  with  exceeding  sur 
prise  :  — 

"  The  Baroness  Gabrielle  von  Dohna  begs  the  priv 
ilege  of  speaking  a  few  moments  with  Count  Hugo 
von  Kronfels." 

"  Hm,"  he  muttered,  eying  the  visiting  card  suspi- 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  221 

ciously ;  "  I  bet  two  to  one  that  it 's  piety,  or  benev 
olence  or  something  of  the  sort.  She  has  n't  any 
thing  to  do  to-day,  and  being  bored,  remembers  that 
one  must  make  charity-visits,  for  of  such  is  the  king 
dom  of  heaven.  I  will  lay  that  scheme  low." 

Smiling  satirically,  he  too  wrote  on  a  visiting  card : 

"  Count  Hugo  von  Kronfels  presents  his  compli 
ments  to  the  Baroness  von  Dohna,  and  since  he  is  feel 
ing  very  comfortable,  and  is  well  supplied  with  books, 
fruits,  and  flowers,  and  requires  nothing  whatever  for 
his  comfort  or  entertainment,  he  begs  to  decline  with 
many  thanks  the  honor  of  her  visit." 

"  There,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  should  think  that  would 
do,"  and  gave  it  to  Lipps. 

Presently  down  came  another  sealed  proposal.  The 
former  was  written  handsomely  with  ink.  This,  scrib 
bled  impatiently  in  pencil,  and  with  no  formal  em 
ployment  of  the  third  person,  was  direct  if  not  abrupt. 

"  But  you  quite  misunderstand,  really ;  I  don't  want 
to  see  you  at  all.  I  only  want  to  ask  you  something." 

"  How  we  men,  sick  or  well,  flatter  ourselves !  This 
is  odd,  and  it  certainly  does  n't  sound  pious  or  benevo 
lent.  However,  I  won't  be  beguiled,"  and  he  wrote 
with  scrupulous  ceremony :  — 

"  Count  Kronfels'  compliments,  and  if  the  Baroness 
von  Dohna  does  not  wish  to  see  him,  could  she  not 
save  herself  the  trouble  of  the  interview  and  commu 
nicate  her  commands  by  the  present  easy  method  ?  " 

Down  came  Gabrielle's  third  missive  with  surpris 
ing  promptness :  — 

"  I  could,  but  I  prefer  to  see  you.  I  will  not 
trouble  you  long.  Please  let  me  come." 

"  The  deuce  !  It 's  a  row  with  mamma.  I  knew 
that  the  prayer  for  intercession  would  be  heard 


222  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

sooner  or  later.  She  has  held  out  very  well.  I  will 
see  her,  and  tell  her  once  for  all  that  I  do  not  choose 
to  interfere.  Whereupon  she  will  weep  and  moan 
and  enumerate  her  grievances.  As  if  she  could  tell 
me  anything  new  !  " 

"Lipps,  ask  Roschen  to  beg  the  Baroness  von 
Dohna  to  kindly  give  me  the  honor  of  a  few  mo 
ments'  conversation." 

Sooner  than  it  seemed  to  him  possible  for  any  mor 
tal  to  descend  that  long  stairway  and  pass  the  length 
of  the  house,  there  was  a  light  knock  at  his  door,  and 
Gabrielle  came  in,  the  reverse  of  lachrymose,  and  un- 
suggestive  of  grievances. 

"  Count  Kronfels,"  she  said,  looking  down  upon 
him  with  a  spirited  and  an  eminently  dry-eyed  ex 
pression,  "  would  you  be  so  very  kind  as  to  give  me 
some  wine  ?  " 

"  Will  I  give  you  some  wine  ?  "  he  repeated. 

"  About  two  bottles,"  she  continued  in  a  quick, 
matter-of-fact  way.  "  I  should  think  that  ought  to 
be  enough  for  eight  or  ten  men,  should  n't  you  ?  Of 
course  I  shall  not  make  it  very  strong." 

"  You  will  not  make  it  very  strong  ?  " 

"  No,  I  never  make  it  strong,"  she  remarked  with 
decision.  "  Papa  says  that  my  concoctions  taste 
chiefly  of  lemon  peel  and  chopped  ice.  But  they 
always  like  it,  and  after  all  the  main  thing  is  that 
it  is  cold,  and  that  there  is  enough  of  it,  don't  you 
think  so  ?  " 

It  seemed  to  Hugo  that  he  had  never  seen  so  fault 
lessly  fresh  a  girl.  The  strong  light  from  three  win 
dows  fell  broadly  upon  her,  and  she  stood  so  close 
to  his  sofa,  that  he  noted  the  fineness  of  her  hair,  the 
delicate  rim  of  the  ear  turned  toward  him,  —  he  had 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  223 

theories  about  ears,  —  the  clearness  of  her  eyes,  the 
wholesome  red  of  her  lips,  her  good  white  teeth,  and 
her  whole  air  of  sweetness  and  strength.  "  She  has 
lived  a  great  deal  in  the  open  air,"  he  concluded, 
"  and  she  looks  as  if  she  had  bathed  in  what  the  poets 
would  call  crystal  fountains  or  morning  dew  or  moun 
tain  brooks  —  something  pure  and  invigorating,  at 
all  events."  Her  hands  were  lying  easily  one  in  the 
other,  both  palms  upturned.  They  looked  soft  and 
pink  and  babyish  to  him.  "  What  a  charming  thing 
a  woman's  hand  is  !  "  he  reflected.  "  Is  she  so  excep 
tionally  pretty,  or  have  I  forgotten  ?  Now  what  kind 
of  a  revel  for  ten  men  is  she  talking  about  ?  " 

Such  thoughts,  and  many  more  of  her  and  of  the 
past,  flashed  through  his  mind  during  the  instant 
following  her  remark.  But  without  perceptible  delay 
or  surprise  he  answered  gravely  :  - 

"  I  could  hardly  venture  to  express  an  opinion 
whether  it  ought  to  be  cold  or  hot,  but  I  unhesitat 
ingly  agree  with  you  that  there  should  be  enough 
of  it." 

Gabrielle  gave  a  little  laugh. 

"  Ah,  I  forget  that  you  know  nothing  about  it." 

"  How  should  I  ?  "  Hugo  returned  dryly.  "  But 
that  is  not  important.  If  I  owned  the  great  Heidel 
berg  vat,  I  would  place  it  unconditionally  at  your 
service,  full  of  Johannesberger  Schloss.  If  I  can  do 
anything  else  for  you  and  your  friends,  pray  count 
upon  me." 

She  could  not  see  the  vague  tantalizing  visions  of 
festivities  and  merry-makings  passing  before  him,  and 
she  wondered  at  the  extreme  formality  of  his  tone. 

"  His  profile  is  like  St.  Casimir,"  she  decided,  "  but 
his  expression  is  not  at  all  saintly." 


224  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  The  Heidelberg  vat  full  of  Johannesberger  would 
be  very  inappropriate  magnificence,"  she  rejoined. 
"  But  I  shall  be  very  grateful  for  a  couple  of  bottles 
of  ordinary  Khein  wine,  or  light  claret.  I  should  not 
need  to  appeal  to  you  at  all,  if  it  were  not  for  Peter." 

Hugo  raised  his  eyebrows. 

Gabrielle,  meeting  his  slightly  ironical  gaze,  colored, 
and  said  apologetically  :  — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  count.  If  I  take  your  wine, 
you  have  a  right  to  know  what  I  do  with  it." 

"  Not  the  least,"  protested  Hugo  with  a  deprecat 
ing  gesture ;  and  although  the  young  girl's  sudden  en 
trance,  her  spirited  personality,  her  request,  and  her 
extraordinary  allusions  to  ten  men  and  Peter  all  filled 
him  with  wonder,  he  hypocritically  added  :  — 

"  Moreover,  I  am  not  curious." 

"  No,"  she  said  gently,  her  eyes  full  of  kindness  and 
pity,  and  looking  frankly  at  the  invalid's  room,  that 
seemed  with  its  luxury  and  its  stillness  miles  away 
from  the  group  of  warm  and  boisterous  masons  out 
on  the  sunny  road  ;  "  no,  of  course  you  are  not.  But 
it  is  all  very  simple.  Peter  is  a  stone-mason,  to  whom 
I  promised  to  send  some  cool  drink  this  afternoon. 
He  is  a  cross-grained  and  very  skeptical  person.  It 
won't  tire  you  to  listen  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all,"  Hugo  replied  with  a  perceptible  in 
crease  of  cordiality,  and  conscious  of  sudden  friendly 
sentiments  toward  the  unknown  Peter,  and  mankind 
in  general.  "  But  I  am  allowing  you  to  stand,  bar 
oness." 

"  Thanks,"  she  said,  merely  leaning  her  arm  on  the 
back  of  a  large  easy-chair. 

"  Peter  believes  that  all  people  who  are  not  day- 
laborers  have  bad  hearts,"  she  continued.  "  Now  it 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  225 

would  not  be  pleasant  to  break  one's  word  to  any 
body  "  — 

"  I  never  knew  that  girls  had  any  '  word,'  "  re 
fleeted  the  ex-lieutenant  of  dragoons,  searching  his 
great  book  of  reminiscence. 

"  But  I  think  I  would  rather  fail  to  keep  mine  to 
almost  any  one  else  —  to  a  gentleman  —  to  you,  for 
instance  "  — 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Hugo  gravely. 

"  Than  to  Peter.  For  Peter,"  she  explained  with  a 
mischievous  and  lovely  smile,  "  expects  the  worst  pos 
sible  conduct  of  me,  and  of  everybody  who  happens 
to  have  clean  hands  ;  and  if  I  should  break  my  word 
to  him  it  would  only  strengthen  his  pessimistic  theo 
ries,  you  understand,  and  that  would  be  a  great  pity, 
for  they  make  him  very  uncomfortable." 

"  I  am  beginning  to  understand.  But  if  you  will 
not  think  my  question  ungracious,  —  indeed  it  is  a 
pleasure  to  me  to  serve  you,  and  a  gigantic  event  in 
my  monotonous  life,  —  why  did  you  not  simply  give 
your  orders  to  the  butler  ?  " 

He  watched  her  keenly,  reflecting :  — 

"  She  can't  resist  that.  Now  come  the  grievances 
and  mamma." 

She  looked  at  him  squarely  with  her  fearless,  sensi 
ble  eyes. 

"  This  morning  I  told  them,  Peter  and  the  others, 
that  I  would  send  it.  No  doubt  I  spoke  rashly.  It 
was  an  impulse.  I  see  now  that  I  ought  not  to  have 
offered  them  anything  ;  I  ought  to  have  remembered 
that  I  was  not  at  home,  where  in  such  matters,  in 
most  matters,  indeed,  I  did  what  I  liked  ;  but  having 
promised  the  men  the  punch,  I  do  not  see  how  I 
can  fail  to  send  it  out  to  them." 


226  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  No,  neither  do  I,"  remarked  Hugo. 

"  Do  you  not  ?  I  am  glad  of  that,"  she  exclaimed 
warmly,  then  hesitated. 

"  Here  's  her  hedge,"  thought  the  young  man. 

"At  lunch  I  found  that  the  idea  did  not  please 
your  mamma,"  she  continued  with  neither  complaint 
nor  subterfuge. 

"  How  well  she  took  it !  "  he  was  forced  to  admit. 

"Did  mamma  refuse  you  point  blank?"  he  asked 
in  a  queer  tone. 

"  It  is  only  fair  to  say,"  Gabrielle  replied,  after  a 
moment,  "that  perhaps  she  would  not  have  refused, 
if  I  had  not  done  something  disagreeable  and  rude, 
something  that  displeased  her,  just  before." 

"  Would  it  be  too  indiscreet  if  I  should  inquire 
what  your  awful  crime  was  ?  " 

"Something  was  said  that  I  did  not  like,  and  I 
stalked  out  of  the  room.  I  don't  think,  myself,  that 
it  was  a  nice  thing  to  do.  I  have  a  very  bad  temper," 
she  said  seriously.  "  But  it  was  all  petty,  count. 
Don't  let  us  talk  about  that.  If  it  had  not  been  for 
Peter,  I  would  have  gone  out  and  excused  myself, 
and  told  the  men  that  I  would  try  to  make  the  punch 
for  them  another  time/' 

"  Impossible,"  commented  Hugo  with  a  frown. 

"  Not  pleasant,  I  admit ;  but  by  no  means  impossi 
ble,"  she  amended.  "At  first  I  thought  that  there 
was  nothing  else  to  do,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that 
they  would  believe  I  was  sorry.  Don't  you  think 
so?" 

Hugo  muttered  some  unintelligible  expletive  under 
his  breath. 

"  Then  I  determined  to  go  down  town  and  buy  some, 
but  that  would  have  been  so  unnatural  and  indelicate, 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  227 

and  perhaps  unkind,  and  certainly  very  conspicuous 
and  defiant.  Suddenly  I  discovered  that  I  could  not 
if  I  would,  for  I  had  already  spent  my  month's  allow 
ance.  Altogether  I  felt  very  foolish,  and  like  a 
school-girl  in  disgrace.  Finally,  I  thought  of  you.  It 
seemed  probable  that  you  would  help  me.  Men  are 
usually  willing  to  help  one,"  she  added  sagely.  "  It 
was  so  trivial  a  thing  in  itself,  and  yet  had  caused 
me  so  many  conflicting  thoughts,  that  is  why  I  burst 
in  upon  you  so  strangely.  When  one  thinks  hard 
of  anything,  one  supposes  that  other  people  know  all 
about  it.  I  hope  that  I  have  not  troubled  you  too 
much." 

Her  voice  was  so  fresh  and  confident,  so  utterly  un 
suspicious,  she  was  so  loyal,  so  eager  to  do  everybody 
justice,  no  one  could  have  appealed  more  strongly  to 
Hugo's  peculiar  sympathies.  His  thoughts  were  in  a 
strange  tumult.  The  chivalrous  sentiments,  that  were 
current  coin  in  his  gallant  past,  urged  him  to  respond 
in  words  as  simple  and  frank  as  her  own.  But  some 
wayward  instinct  induced  him  to  still  intrench  himself 
behind  the  defensive  wall  of  reserve  which  he  had 
erected  during  these  days  of  hopeless  invalidism. 

"  I  have  gone  far  on  my  lonely  road,"  he  thought, 
"  and  there  are  many  beautiful  girls  in  the  world.  Be 
cause  this  one  comes  in  here  and  looks  as  fresh  as  a 
June  rose,  is  any  fact  in  my  life  altered  ?  Am  I  less 
a  cripple  ?  I  said  that  I  would  have  nothing  to  do 
with  her.  Let  well  men  assure  her  of  their  interest 
and  protection.  What  is  mine  worth  ?  " 

"  I  am  surely  tiring  you,"  said  Gabrielle,  as  his 
bright  watchful  expression  vanished,  and  his  face  grew 
gloomy  and  haggard.  "  Ah,  forgive  me  !  And  you 
were  so  ill  last  night." 


228  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

How  fair  she  was !  How  sweet  were  the  sudden 
transitions  in  her  voice,  the  trembling  light  and  shade, 
the  youth  and  warmth  and  pity.  She  had  come 
nearer  and  was  looking  anxiously  at  him,  with  compas 
sion  in  her  sincere  eyes. 

"  Are  you  not  very  weary  ?  "  she  asked  again. 

He  longed  to  answer :  — 

"  God  knows  I  am  weary,  soul  and  body,  with  a 
deadly  weariness,"  but  he  merely  said  in  a  somewhat 
cold  tone  :  — 

"  Not  especially." 

"  I  will  go,"  she  murmured. 

Again  an  imperious  longing  bade  him  reply  :  — 

"  No,  stay  with  me.  You  are  beautiful  and  bright 
and  good.  You  have  crossed  my  threshold  like  an 
angel  of  light.  You  cannot  leave  me  in  my  unutter 
able  loneliness.  Give  me  your  sympathy,  your  pity. 
Yours  I  will  not  reject."  Her  hand  was  so  near  his, 
one  slight  movement,  and  he  could  have  touched  it. 
Would  there  not  be  comfort  and  healing  in  the  clasp 
of  that  loyal  hand  ?  Fool  and  coward,  what  were 
soft  hands,  and  lovely  pitying  eyes  to  him !  They 
were  of  the  past  and  the  past  was  dead.  Before  him 
was  a  straight  and  narrow  way  which  he  must  tread 
alone,  and  beyond  —  the  door  was  open. 

"  Baroness,"  he  resumed  courteously,  "  I  thank  you 
for  the  honor  you  have  done  me,  and  if  in  the  future  I 
can  ever  be  of  the  slightest  service,  pray  command 
me.  You  have  only  to  give  your  orders  to  Lipps  "  — 

He  saw  the  wondering  troubled  look  induced  by  this 
plain  hint,  but  he  went  on  with  resolute  politeness  :  — 

"  Lipps  will  bring  whatever  you  want  now  to  the 
dining-room,  and  as  often  as  you  wish  wine  or  anything 
else  for  your  proteges  I  beg  you  will  tell  him.  My 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  229 

wine  cellar  is  in  a  plethoric  condition  which  it  would 
be  a  kindness  to  relieve." 

"  Ah,"  she  returned,  shaking  her  head  slightly,  "  I 
shall  not  want  to  make  any  more  punch  for  people." 

"  It  has  not  been  a  pleasant  experience  for  you,"  he 
observed  less  stiffly,  thinking,  "  Poor  child,  how  un 
mercifully  mamma  has  been  nagging  her  !  Fancy  her 
driven  to  apologize  to  a  pack  of  dirty  masons  or  buy 
ing  wine  with  her  own  pocket  money  !  It  is  disgust 
ing  and  would  be  incredible  — except  it  is  mamma !  " 

"  It  was  not  easy  to  invade  your  castle,"  she  be 
gan  with  a  pleading  look  which  he  understood  per 
fectly,  "  but  I  am  glad  I  came.  It  is  pleasant  here, 
and  homelike."  She  gave  a  slow  wistful  glance  at 
Hugo's  books  and  pictures.  "  It  is  a  little  like  papa's 
room ; "  she  sighed  faintly,  and  turned  to  him  again 
with  a  quick  flush,  a  warm  smile,  and  a  sudden  move 
ment  of  the  hands  toward  him  in  frank  entreaty. 

"  Ah,"  she  exclaimed,  "  if  —  if  you  —  if  you  knew 
how  I  wish  "  — 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  interrupted  Hugo,  "  but  is 
that  Mousey  ?  Do  you  not  hear  ?  " 

A  querulous  yelp  and  some  scratching,  followed  by 
a  scampering  down  the  corridor,  announced  the  dog's 
presence  and  departure. 

"  He  has  been  listening  at  the  door,"  Hugo  re 
marked  with  perfect  gravity.  "  He  has  all  the  mean 
est  vices  of  humanity.  He  has  now  gone  to  tell  his 
mistress  that  you  are  here." 

"  But  that  is  neither  a  crime  nor  a  secret." 

"  It  is  a  great  kindness  and  an  honor  to  me,"  he 
returned  with  a  formality  that  restrained  her  ardent 
impulse  to  beg  him  to  let  her  come  every  day,  to  let 
her  be  a  friend  and  good  comrade  to  him.  He  checked 


230  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

and  chilled  her,  and  she  could  not  accentuate  her 
desire  against  his  will. 

"  Mousey  is  the  real  cause  of  my  perplexities,"  she 
said  quietly.  "  He  was  out  of  bounds.  I  went  after 
him.  If  I  had  not  followed  him,  I  should  not  have 
passed  the  workmen  and  stopped  to  bid  them  good- 
morning.  If  I  had  not  talked  with  Peter,  I  should 
not  have  perceived  that  he  was  in  an  unusually  misan 
thropic  mood,  which  made  me  wish  to  try  to  appease 
him  with  gifts  and  libations.  And  if  I  had  not  prom 
ised  him  the  punch  I  should  not  now  be  here.  Pardon 
me  for  troubling  you,  and  thanks  for  everything." 

"  Don't  thank  me,"  Hugo  rejoined  quickly.  "  The 
indebtedness  is  entirely  mine.  It  has  been  a  great 
and  unexpected  pleasure,  and  makes  me  feel  singularly 
benevolent  toward  Mousey  for  his  mediation.  Al 
though  the  truth  is,  in  this  house  little  happens  in 
which  he  is  not  concerned,  first  or  last." 

uYes,  I  have  noticed  that,"  she  returned,  in  the 
same  quiet  tone.  With  every  light  word  he  seemed 
to  increase  the  distance  between  them.  How  hollow 
his  temples  were,  how  sallow  and  ill  he  looked. 
How  politely  he  smiled,  with  a  drawing-room  manner, 
as  if  he  were  on  his  feet  and  in  uniform,  not  stretched 
on  his  back.  She  forgot  the  workmen  and  that  the 
hour  of  the  afternoon  drive  was  approaching.  She 
wished  she  were  Mercedes,  or  any  one  who  could  help 
him  and  be  useful  and  companionable  to  him,  and 
whom  he  would  not  repulse  with  this  freezing,  smiling 
ceremony.  Yet  a  few  moments  ago  he  had  been 
almost  friendly. 

She  turned  to  go. 

Hugo  raised  himself  slightly,  steadying  himself  with 
one  elbow. 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  231 

"  It  is  awkward,"  he  said  with  the  smile  which  hurt 
her,  "that  a  man  is  forced  to  be  discourteous,  and 
keep  this  attitude  when  a  lady  leaves  his  room,  but  you 
will  take  the  will  for  the  deed." 

His  manner  was  light,  even  flippant,  as  if  the  sub 
ject  were,  when  all  was  said,  of  extremely  little  im 
portance. 

"How  can  you  speak  to  me  so?"  she  returned 
quickly,  looking  at  him  sorrowfully,  and  with  a  note 
of  reproach,  even  of  indignation,  in  her  voice.  "  Do 
you  think  me  so  dull  and  heartless  that  you  must  talk 
to  me  like  that  ?  " 

Hugo's  society  smile  faded.  He  stared  at  her  si 
lently,  as  she  murmured  her  adieux  and  left  the  room. 

She  looked  at  her  watch.  The  minutes  had  flown 
fast.  The  drive  was  imminent.  "  I  will  run  up  first, 
put  on  my  hat  and  take  my  gloves,  so  that  I  need  not 
keep  her  waiting.  I  don't  like  the  concealment,  but  I 
can't  help  hoping  that  everything  will  be  quiet,  and 
that  I  can  mix  my  draught  for  those  thirsty  men  with 
out  more  excitement.  Afterwards  I  will  tell  her  and 
take  the  consequences." 

She  reached  her  door,  which  was  ajar,  and  ran  lightly 
in,  stopping  suddenly  with  a  startled  "  Oh !  "  Hugo's 
jest  had  been  founded  on  fact.  Mousey  had  certainly 
told  tales.  There  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  established 
firmly  as  if  she  meant  to  remain,  was  the  countess, 
stern,  angry,  and  pale.  Near  her,  his  yellow  haunches 
planted  on  a  blue  chintz  chair,  and  wearing  a  grin  of 
malevolent  expectation,  sat  Mousey. 

"  I  did  not  know  that  you  were  here,"  Gabrielle  ejac 
ulated  nervously,  after  which  platitude  all  three  were 
silent.  She  surveyed  her  judges,  the  big  one  and  the 
little  one,  and  knew  that  her  portion  would  be  neither 


232  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

justice  nor  mercy.  "  And  it  is  not  made  !  "  she  realized 
with  anxiety.  "  If  she  should  positively  forbid  me  to 
make  it !  " 

"  You  have  come  to  speak  with  me  ?  "  she  began. 

"  I  have,"  returned  the  countess. 

"  Will  you  pardon  me,"  the  young  girl  said  rapidly, 
and  with  decision.  "I  have  something  to  do  down 
stairs  ;  I  will  come  back  in  a  very  few  moments." 

Waiting  for  no  reply,  she  closed  the  door  and  ran 
down  to  the  dining-room,  where  with  Lipps'  assistance 
she  flung  water  and  wine  and  sugar  and  chopped  ice 
and  slices  of  lemon  into  a  flagon. 

"  She  won't  follow  me  because  she  has  not  her  hat 
on,  and  she  '11  never  attempt  the  stairs  twice  in  succes 
sion,"  she  reasoned. 

"  There,"  she  murmured  triumphantly,  "  I  hope  they 
can  drink  it.  It  ought  to  be  good.  It  is  thrown  to 
gether  with  the  madness  of  genius.  Lipps,  take  it  to 
Peter.  You  know  Peter.  Here,  Lipps,  go  out  this 
door." 

He  demurred  respectfully. 

"The  dining-room  balcony  door?     It  is  not  usual." 

"  Never  mind.  Only  go."  Opening  it,  she  fairly 
pushed  him  out. 

"  Lipps,"  she  added  breathlessly,  "  tell  Peter  it  is 
Count  Kronfels'  wine,  the  wine  of  a  man  who  would 
be  thankful  if  he  could  grow  weary  and  warm  and 
thirsty  from  hard  work  on  stone  this  day." 

The  old  servant  looked  distressed  at  this  message. 
It  was  also  unusual. 

"  Ah,  say  it,  Lipps  !  It  can't  hurt  Count  Hugo, 
and  it  may  do  Peter  good."  And  when  she  smiled 
so  sweetly  on  him,  Lipps  felt  nerved  to  commit  an 
even  greater  social  solecism. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  233 

Lipps  and  the  tall  flagon  disappeared  behind  the 
hedge. 

She  drew  a  sigh  of  relief.  How  excited  she  felt, 
and  how  eventful  the  day  seemed,  yet  nothing  great 
had  happened.  She  pressed  her  hands  an  instant  to 
her  flushed  cheeks,  brushed  a  little  sugar  from  her 
sleeve,  and  thought,  as  she  passed  along  the  cor 
ridor  :  — 

"  And  now,  courage  !  For  I  am  going  to  my  exe 
cution." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

THE  Frau  Major  von  Funnel  sat  in  her  boudoir 
and  thought.  The  room  was  small,  still,  and  grave 
as  an  anchorite's  cell.  It  was  here  that  the  serious 
business  of  her  life  was  conducted,  and  no  bric-a-brac, 
nothing  light  and  diverting,  met  the  eye.  A  simple 
writing-table  with  plain  appointments  stood  in  one 
corner  near  a  hanging  shelf  of  books,  consisting 
chiefly  of  Aphorisms,  Wit,  and  Wisdom  of  one  great 
author,  Memorable  Words  of  another,  Anthologies, 
in  short,  collections  of  miscellaneous  quotations  in 
prose  and  verse,  under  various  titles.  She  was  not  a 
reader.  She  had  little  time  and  less  taste  for  books, 
but  she  succeeded,  nevertheless,  in  conveying  a  very 
good  imitation  of  a  literary  atmosphere.  When  at 
the  close  of  a  conversation  with  some  distinguished 
man,  already  charmed  by  her  womanliness,  her  sweet 
gravity,  and  her  rapt  attention  to  his  remarks,  she 
would  look  up  confidingly  into  his  eyes,  and  softly 
murmur  a  word  from  Marcus  Aurelius,  or  Pascal,  or 
Goethe,  or  some  other  condensed  immortal  of  the 
goodly  fellowship  on  her  little  shelf,  the  effect  was 
perfect,  and  nothing  could  ever  convince  that  man 
that  the  Frau  Major  was  not  as  modestly  erudite  as 
she  was  appreciative  of  true  greatness. 

If  some  relentless  inventor  —  in  addition  to  the 
detective  camera  which  steals  and  reflects  our  unsus 
pecting  countenances  at  midnight  as  at  noonday, 
and  the  pitiless  apparatus  whose  mission  is  to  tran 
scribe  and  retain  to  our  perpetual  regret  and  shame 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  235 

all  our  foolish  and  hasty  words  —  should  construct 
a  still  more  diabolically  clever  machine  which  would 
print  our  secret  thoughts  upon  our  walls,  perhaps 
some  of  the  worst  of  us  would  hold  up  our  heads,  and 
some  of  the  holiest  would  blush  and  squirm.  For  the 
vagabonds  —  and  what  does  vagabond  mean  but 
"  floating  about  without  a  certain  direction  "  ?  - 
those  souls  whom  nature  has  created  to  be,  however 
sweet  and  pure  their  own  harmonies,  forever  out  of 
tune  with  the  world's  formal  measures  —  have  some 
times  a  kindly  and  guileless  way  of  looking  at  life, 
while  the  most  highly  decorous  and  conventionally 
respected  individual  may  proceed  upon  base  and  sor 
did  lines.  Most  assuredly  the  walls  of  that  little 
boudoir,  if  detailed  by  the  command  of  genius  to 
reveal  the  Frau  Major's  habitual  meditations,  would 
have  displayed  fine  and  subtle  hieroglyphics,  and  sen 
timents  that  would  have  startled  the  best  society  out 
of  its  complacency. 

The  Frau  Major  was  not  incommoded  by  that 
human  quality  or  frailty  —  awkward  and  compromis 
ing  at  times,  yet  often  an  amiable  and  cheerful  guide 
—  which  we  call  impulse.  She  must  indeed  have 
possessed  the  attribute,  and  it  must  have  moved,  — 
since,  as  old  Heraclitus  informed  mankind,  "  Every- 
' thing  flows,"  —  but  with  her  it  took  its  rise  in  pro 
foundly  remote  causes,  and  its  action  was  impercepti 
bly  slow,  like  the  movement  of  glaciers,  or  the  ocean 
undermining  a  cliff. 

If,  for  instance,  she  was  seen  in  some  brilliant  gath 
ering  to  distinguish  a  shy,  uninteresting,  and  hitherto 
unnoticed  youth  ;  if  she  stood  long  with  him,  gazing 
up  into  his  face  with  the  deep  womanly  admiration 
which  she  always  offered  the  superior  being,  man,  and 


236  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

which  the  superior  being,  man,  always  condescended 
to  accept  in  as  large  measure  as  she  would  mete  ;  if  she 
hung  upon  his  words,  smiled  upon  him  with  her  calm, 
clever,  and  benign  countenance,  spoke  with  him  in  her 
measured  and  enthralling  accents,  and  left  him  her 
captive  and  slave  for  life,  —  somewhat  astonished  too 
at  the  good  sense,  wit,  and  fine  sentiments  which  he 
had  been  able  to  display  to  this  sympathetic  woman, 
when  thus  far  in  his  social  career  his  fellow-creatures 
had  had  the  effect  of  disastrously  damming  his  elo 
quence,  and  he  had  been  miserably  conscious  that 
his  only  memorable  words  had  been  interchanged 
exclusively  with  himself,  either  before  or  after  the 
occasion  when  they  were  demanded,  —  if,  then,  she 
singled  him  out,  and  intoxicated  him  with  bliss,  her 
reasons  were  apt  to  proceed  from  fathomless  depths 
of  policy  and  "  caverns  measureless  to  man." 

It  was  not  her  broad  charity,  which  her  whole  fol 
lowing  lauded  to  the  skies  ;  it  was  not  even  her  shrewd 
principle  that  in  certain  calculations  one  reckons  false 
if  one  calls  any  mortal  unimportant.  These  motives 
would  have  induced  an  approving  smile,  a  tender 
hand-clasp,  a  subtly  appreciative  word,  but  not  the 
long  and  absorbing  interview  ;  it  was  a  farther  reach 
ing  and  deeper  incentive  which  projected  the  Frau 
Major  upon  this  apparently  unremunerative  plane. 

The  youth  was  poor,  but  his  great-great-grand 
father's  cousin's  wife  had  been  rich  and  had  left 
a  fortune  to  the  collateral  branch  of  the  family,  the 
senior  of  which  was  at  present  a  gouty  country  gen 
tleman,  aged  eighty-six,  the  father  of  five  sons.  The 
oldest  of  the  brothers  was  long  since  dead.  The  sec 
ond  had  been  detected  by  his  comrades  at  an  officer's 
club  playing  with  marked  cards,  and  out  of  regard 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  237 

for  his  name  was  hustled  off  to  America  —  that  vastly 
receptive  Reform  School  for  Europe's  bad  boys  —  as 
fast  and  as  secretly  as  possible.  The  third  was  an  Af 
rican  explorer,  for  many  months  missing.  The  fourth 
was  consumptive  and  seen  only  at  Baths.  The  fifth  was 
a  dashing  lieutenant,  fond  of  wine  and  hurdle-races. 

Recently  the  Frau  Major  had  overheard  a  certain 
royal  personage,  who  always  had  a  kind  word  for 
everybody,  and  remembered  everybody's  relations, 
inquire  after  the  health  of  the  youth's  aged  relative, 
and  she  had  been  fortunate  enough  to  hear  the  reply 
that  the  old  gentleman  had  had  a  slight  stroke  of 
paralysis.  She  was  strong  in  genealogy,  —  and  necrol 
ogy,  —  and  knew  what  most  persons  of  her  set  had 
forgotten,  —  the  exact  connection  between  the  youth's 
own  family  and  the  other  branch.  She  computed  the 
tottering  chances  for  a  gouty  man  of  eighty-six  who 
had  had  his  first  stroke  of  paralysis,  for  a  long-missing 
African  explorer,  for  a  pronounced  consumptive,  and 
for  a  plethoric  lieutenant  addicted  to  duelling,  wine, 
and  breakneck  races,  and  in  her  calculations  did  not 
forget  that  the  prince  had  twice  spoken  with  that 
stupid  boy,  that  his  Highness's  adjutant  was  reported 
to  be  in  disfavor,  and  that  the  prince  allowed  himself 
now  and  then  the  luxury  of  a  simple  .and  unaccounta 
ble  liking.  These  somewhat  tediously  involved  men 
tal  processes  but  approximately  indicate  the  workings 
of  the  Frau  Major's  "  impulse  "  to  honor  the  awkward 
youth,  to  invite  him  to  her  Thursdays,  to  present  him 
to  her  special  pet,  Emma  Mayer,  and  her  darling  little 
Berta,  and  to  explain  to  her  friends  in  her  candid  and 
impressive  manner :  "  His  face  is  so  unworldly  and  pure 
it  attracts  me.  I  admire  him,"  she  would  add,  contem 
plating  him  seriously.  "  I  think  he  looks  like  a  poet."' 


238  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

The  Frau  Major  sat  motionless  in  her  low  chair  and 
thought.  Her  face  looked  heavy  and  sad  without  the 
luminous  sympathetic  glance  which  she  wore  in  so 
ciety.  The  small  cold  eyes  were  downcast,  the  large 
unsmiling  mouth  was  for  once  off  duty.  She  was 
weary.  Her  creed  was  that  of  Major  Pendennis: 
"  Life  without  money  and  the  best  society  is  n't  worth 
having."  The  best  society  she  had,  but  she  was 
obliged  to  work  hard  to  maintain  in  it,  without  money, 
the  foothold  which  she  regarded  as  desirable.  She 
cherished  no  illusions  with  regard  to  her  own  impor 
tance,  but  was  fully  aware  that  if  she  did  not  con 
stantly  earn  popularity  and  prominence,  she  would  be 
simply  a  lonely  elderly  woman,  about  whom  the  world 
would  not  trouble  itself.  Was  not  General  S.'s  wife 
once  popular  ?  Did  she  not  give  dinners  and  balls  ? 
The  general  died.  What  was  she  now  ?  Respected  ? 
Dear,  yes,  when  any  one  happened  to  think  of  her. 

The  Frau  Major  knew  that  if  she  did  not  periodi 
cally  organize  a  charity-bazar,  philanthropic  theatri 
cals,  or  a  benevolent  masquerade,  the  world's  restless 
waves  would  sweep  on  and  leave  her  stranded.  She 
earnestly  studied  a  note-book  in  which  were  names, 
dates,  and  mathematical  calculations.  Her  situation, 
she  reflected,  had  changed  little  in  years.  She  was 
the  most  popular  woman  in  Wynburg,  welcome  in 
many  circles,  praised  by  the  wise  and  the  foolish, 
prominent  in  all  good  works,  a  pillar  of  society,  and 
with  the  reputation  of  lofty  principles  and  fervent 
religious  feeling.  But  without  money  it  all  cost  un 
ceasing  toil  and  tact.  With  money  she  could  have 
given  frequent  and  choice  little  dinners  which  would 
command  solid  and  permanent  respect,  and  render 
bazars  superfluous.  "Ah,"  she  sighed,  "if  I  had 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  5239 

but  had  daughters  !  I  would  have  married  them  so 
well !  "  It  was  absolutely  indispensable  for  her  to 
obtain  fresh  and  strong  influence  in  several  house 
holds.  She  was  resistlessly  impelled  to  exert  influ 
ence  upon  her  fellow-creatures,  to  pull  wires  and 
make  complicated  plans,  and  she  was  aware  that  her 
talents  would  have  been  invaluable  in  agitated  politi 
cal  circles;  still  she  saw  no  reason  to  let  them  rust 
here  where  fate  had  placed  her.  Life  without  this 
species  of  gambling  would  have  been  stagnation  to 
her,  and  social  insignificance  was  worse  than  death. 

She  regarded  her  human  chess-board.  Each  pawn, 
like  little  Emma  Mayer,  had  its  own  value.  She  saw 
many  parallel  happy  contingencies,  and  simultane 
ously  advancing  perils.  But  her  chief  interest  was 
centred  in  the  Kronfels  group.  The  countess  might 
be,  with  a  few  modifications,  —  but  was  not,  —  all  that 
was  desirable  for  a  friend.  Intimacy  with  her  was  an 
impressive  fact  before  the  world,  but  no  school-girl 
was  so  fickle  and  uncertain  in  her  attachments,  and 
nothing  except  nitro-glycerine  required  more  careful 
handling.  To  preserve  her  good-will,  to  propitiate  or 
at  least  not  to  irritate  that  cynical,  mistrustful  Hugo, 
to  win  Gabrielle  completely,  and  see  her  safely  mar 
ried  to  Lorenz  or  to  Egon,  to  be  her  guide,  philoso 
pher,  and  friend,  —  and  Gabrielle  herself  with  the 
Kronfels  fortune  would  be  a  social  power  later,  was 
motherless,  sisterless,  and  surely  already  convinced 
that  she  could  obtain  no  support  or  sympathy  from 
the  countess,  —  all  these  seemed  to  the  Frau  Major 
to  be  clearly  defined  duties.  Beside  her  instinct  to 
govern  people's  lives  and  the  social  prestige  which 
she  held  so  dear,  there  were  certain  practical  advan 
tages  in  associating  with  rich  people,  which  she  by  no 


240  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

means  ignored.  There  were  drives  and  invitations  to 
the  theatre  and  opera,  hot-house  flowers  and  fruits, 
and  innumerable  gifts,  which  she  knew  how  to  accept 
with  no  loss  of  dignity,  and  which  were  a  great  aid  to 
a  small  income.  "  One  can  do  without  the  necessities 
of  life,  but  not  without  the  luxuries,"  she  thoroughly 
realized. 

She  had  not  been  able  to  pay  Gabrielle  any  special 
attention  yet,  she  reflected ;  it  was  well  to  proceed 
slowly.  If  the  countess's  jealousy  was  roused,  all  was 
lost,  and  the  girl  would  simply  be  sent  home  portion 
less  and  in  disfavor.  How  providential  it  was  that 
Hugo  and  Mercedes  had  not  married  before  the  acci 
dent.  Mercedes  was  never  malleable,  and  it  woidd 
be  a  crime  for  the  Kronfels  wealth  to  be  cast  to  the 
four  winds  of  heaven  by  that  haughty,  mocking, 
sharp-tongued,  clever  woman  !  "  The  Kronfels  fam 
ily  is  interesting,  but  not  unlike  a  powder-magazine," 
she  thought.  "Hugo  is  difficult,  the  countess  danger 
ous,  and  Gabrielle,  inexperienced  as  she  is,  has  a 
certain  natural  shrewdness,  and  a  directness  that  is 
sometimes  positively  appalling.  She  has  still  much 
to  learn,  but  I  should  really  like  her,  and  I  could  be 
of  infinite  service  to  her  if  she  but  knew  it." 

At  this  point  in  her  reflections,  her  maid  an 
nounced  :  — 

"  The  Baroness  von  Dohna." 

The  Frau  Major  smiled  charmingly.  She  was 
adored  by  her  servants,  for  she  had  no  petty  vices 
of  impatience  and  unreasonableness.  "In  the  little 
salon ;  I  will  come  at  once." 

The  little  salon  was  as  dainty  as  the  boudoir  was 
austere,  and  Gabrielle  waited  there  but  a  few  mo 
ments  before  she  saw  the  Frau  Major's  handsome 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  241 

face  smiling  upon  her,  while  a  cordial  hand  extended 
an  exquisite  half-blown  Niphetos  rose,  and  the  incom 
parable  low,  slow  voice  said :  — 

"  Dear  child,  I  was  thinking  of  you,"  with  a  tender 
lingering  on  the  final  word. 

44  You  are  very  good,"  Gabrielle  returned  grate 
fully. 

The  Frau  Major  sat  down  on  the  little  sofa  with 
Gabrielle,  took  her  hands,  and  looked  intently  and 
gravely  into  her  eyes. 

"  No  one  is  waiting  for  you  ?  " 

"No  one.  I  came  quite  alone,  and  of  my  own 
accord." 

"Lorenz  has  proposed,  or  Egon,  and  she  wants  a 
confidante,"  concluded  the  Frau  Major.  The  gentle, 
infinitely  sympathetic  glance  rested  tranquilly  upon 
her  visitor. 

"  That  is  kind,  and  what  I  have  often  wished  you 
would  do.  You  are  not  driving  to-day  ?  " 

44  Not  now.  We  were  out  a  short  time,  —  a  few  mo 
ments."  Gabrielle  hesitated  more  than  her  wont,  for 
she  could  scarcely  inform  the  Frau  Major  that  the 
countess's  temper  was  at  white  heat,  that  she  had 
given  the  coachman  three  different  orders  in  rapid 
succession,  and  after  driving  ten  minutes  had  called 
44  Home  !  "  in  a  hoarse  voice,  and  left  her  without 
word  or  glance  in  the  vestibule. 

The  young  girl  looked  frankly  in  the  wise  and  kind 
face  bent  tenderly  toward  her. 

44 1  have  come  to  ask  a  favor,"  she  continued. 

44  It  is  granted,  dear  child." 

44  Ah,  that  is  generous,  to  promise  without  hear 
ing  it." 

44 1  know  that  whatever  you  would  ask  I  would  do 


242  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

—  for  you,"  returned  the  lovely  voice  with  its  calm 
tone  of  conviction.     "I  have  a  very  special  interest  in 
you ;    and  what  is  more  natural  than  that  a  young 
girl    should  be   in  doubt  as  to  her  course  —  should 
perhaps  need  counsel  ?  " 

"But  I  am  not  at  all  in  doubt,"  Gabrielle  said 
simply,  "  at  least  not  in  regard  to  this  matter.  You 
are  very  good  to  me,  and  I  am  very  grateful ;  but  I 
have  come  to-day  to  ask  you  if  you  will  be  so  kind 
as  not  to  propose  anything  for  me  to  Aunt  Adelheid, 

—  any  pleasures,  or  gayeties,  or  anything  whatever?" 
"  She  is  actually  suggesting  to  me  to  mind  my  own 

affairs,"  the  Frau  Major  realized  with  amusement. 

"  Dear  child,"  she  murmured,  and  awaited  further 
developments. 

"I  know,"  Gabrielle  went  on,  "that  you  are  only 
thinking  of  my  happiness." 

"  And  of  your  good,"  added  the  other  solemnly. 

"  Yes,  of  everything  kind  and  sweet  and  gracious 
and  unselfish,  and  like  yourself.  There  really  is 
something  preposterous  in  my  daring  to  ask  you  not 
to  do  whatever  seems  good  to  you.  Several  times 
when  I  have  thought  of  it  before,  I  have  decided  it 
would  be  absurd.  But  to-day  "  — 

"  To-day,  dear  child?" 

"  To-day,  the  tournament,  and  your  letter  "  — 

The  Frau  Major  patted  Gabrielle's  hand  encour 
agingly  and  listened  with  her  wise  and  tranquil  air. 

"  And  a  conversation  I  have  just  had  with  the 
countess,  and  some  other  things,  lead  me  to  beg  you 
to  propose  nothing  at  all  for  me  ;  nothing  !  " 

"  Dear  Gabrielle,  say  no  more !  Did  I  not  promise 
you  your  wish,  though  it  were  the  half  of  my  king 
dom  ?  I  will  never  again  be  so  cruel  as  to  suggest 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  243 

that  my  special  pet  among  all  girls  shall  be  arrayed 
in  gold  brocade  and  violet  plush,  and  ride  before 
royalty  with  a  stately  knight  in  armor.  Is  that  the 
extent  of  your  grief  ?  " 

Gabrielle  laughed  brightly. 

"  It  does  sound  small,  does  it  not  ?  But  I  thank 
you  with  all  my  heart.  You  relieve  me  more  than 
you  know.  Of  course  I  was  sure  that  you  would 
have  but  one  answer  for  me." 

"  I  am  a  childless  woman  :  I  love  young  people  ;  it 
was  a  joy  to  me  to  be  thoughtful  of  your  interests. 
That  was  all." 

"  I  know,"  returned  Gabrielle  regretfully,  "  and  it 
seems  ungrateful  and  selfish  on  my  part,  yet  it  will 
help  me  very  much,  as  things  are,"  she  added  with 
rising  color,  "  if  you  recommend  nothing  to  Aunt  Adel- 
heid." 

"I  promise,"  said  Frau  von  Funnel  sweetly  and 
solemnly.  "  But  others  will  if  I  do  not." 

"  No  one  else  has  your  influence." 

"  As  to  that,  you  overestimate  me,  dear.  But  I  can 
help  you  in  no  other  way  ?  " 

Gabrielle  looked  at  her  wistfully. 

"  Ah,  you  could,  I  am  sure  you  could !  You  are 
so  wise  and  good.  But  I  have  no  right  to  discuss  my 
little  perplexities,  in  which  others  are  concerned." 

"  Remember  that  I  know  the  countess  exceedingly 
well,"  was  the  soft  and  significant  response. 

"  I  wish  I  had  your  secret  of  never  offending  her," 
Gabrielle  broke  out  impetuously,  "  and  that  is  all  I 
have  to  say  upon  that  subject,  and  I  fear  it  is  already 
too  much." 

"  I  know  her  idiosyncrasies,  her  sorrows,  and  her 
nobility.  I  am  devotedly  attached  to  her." 


244  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"Yes,  I  know  you  are,"  returned  the  young  girl 
thoughtfully.  "  I  observed  that  the  first  day  I  saw 
you." 

"  If  I  could  only  tell  her  everything  and  beg  her  to 
advise  me.  She  would  show  me  my  mistakes  and 
guide  me.  But  I  simply  cannot  live  under  a  woman's 
roof,  eat  her  salt,  and  go  and  discuss  her  faults  with 
her  most  intimate  friends.  No,  that  is  impossible. 
Then  even  the  Frau  Major  cannot  make  Aunt  Adel- 
heid  reasonable,  or  me  clever  enough  to  avoid  fric 
tion."  She  gave  a  little  sigh. 

"  Now  for  our  love  affairs,"  thought  the  Frau 
Major. 

"You  are  troubled,  dear?"  said  the  ineffable  voice. 

"I  have  had  a  rather  exciting  day.  How  good  you 
are  to  let  me  sit  here  quietly  with  you.  How  restful 
it  is,"  Gabrielle  exclaimed  impulsively.  "  You  are 
like  a  cathedral,  calm  and  still,  and  large  enough  to 
receive  all  sorts  of  sinners." 

"The  day  has  been  exciting,  dear?"  repeated  the 
gentle  voice. 

"  Oh,  the  day  in  itself  is  like  any  other,  only  this 
is  the  fourth  important  conversation  I  have  had,  — 
important  to  me,  that  is,  —  and  it  seems  a  long  time 
since  morning." 

The  Frau 'Major  smiled  lovingly  at  her  and  waited. 

"  The  first  was  with  Mercedes." 

"  Dear  Mercedes !  "  murmured  the  Frau  Major. 

"Yes,  she  is  very  dear  and  beautiful,"  said  Ga 
brielle  warmly. 

"  And  so  happy." 

"  Ah,  do  you  think  that  ?  "  asked  Gabrielle  won- 
deringly.  "  I  wish  I  were  sure  of  it." 

After  a  moment  she  said  :  — 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  245 

"  I  think  you  are  the  only  really  happy  person  I 
know  here.  You  are  sure  and  at  rest.  You  have 
nothing  to  seek,  nothing  to  gain  ;  and  you  are  happy, 
because  you  are  loving  and  large-hearted,  and  live  for 
others." 

The  Frau  Major  gave  a  little  deprecating  gesture 
in  response  to  this  excessive  praise,  and  with  a  beatific 
smile  remarked  :  — 

"  So  many  of  my  dear  friends  are  blessed  in  their 
natures  and  in  their  lives.  Almost  everybody,  indeed, 
seems  happy  to  me." 

"  I  may  be  very  ill-natured,  but  they  don't  to  me. 
They  seem  always  restless  and  seeking,  going  up  and 
down  like  the  animals  at  the  menagerie." 

"  Not  ill-natured,  but  a  little  out  of  tune,  perhaps. 
Not  quite  what  your  papa  would  desire  in  his  fresh 
bright-eyed  girl." 

"Ah,  papa  !  "  said  the  girl  confidently.  "Nothing 
in  me  would  astonish  him  much." 

"  Did  your  weighty  conversations  induce  your  un 
flattering  zoological  comparisons?" 

"  I  think  not,"  Gabrielle  replied  laughing.  "  I  am 
often  reminded  of  the  poor  beasts.  They  remember 
something  better,  crave  something  better,  and  hate 
their  limitations.  People  are  very  like  them." 

"  And  you,  yourself,  dear  child  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  am  one  of  the  worst.  I  am  a  young 
hyena !  " 

"  My  dear  Gabrielle !  "  the  Frau  Major  gently  re 
monstrated. 

"  The  crowd  and  the  whirl  oppress  me.  I  am 
weary  of  seeing  so  many  people,  and  never  really 
knowing  any  one.  The  worst  of  it  is,  while  I  am 
sure  there  is  good  everywhere,  I  cannot  find  it.  It  is 


246  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

my  own  fault,  but  it  proves  that  I  do  not  belong  here. 
Indeed,  indeed,  I  remember  but  too  well  the  old  days 
and  green  woods  and  freedom,"  she  exclaimed. 

"  Adelheid  Kronfels  must  have  applied  the  thumb 
screw  lon«'  and  often  to  have  induced  this  state  of 

o 

mind,"  mused  the  tranquil,  softly  -  smiling  dame. 
"Positive  honesty  is  an  awkward  thing.  I  could 
bring  a  score  of  worldly  girls  to  the  altar  with  less 
difficulty." 

Gabrielle  was  still  smiling  playfully,  but  with  her 
last  words  her  eyes  were  slightly  suffused,  and  there 
was  a  ring  of  repressed  emotion  in  her  voice. 

"  Ah,  dear  Frau  Major,  how  patient  you  are  with 
my  nonsense !  How  I  should  like  to  confess  and  be 
shriven  !  But  I  cannot  make  it  seem  quite  honor 
able." 

"  Her  scruples  are  tedious,"  thought  the  older 
woman. 

"  What  Mercedes  and  I  said  seems  to  belong  to 
her.  What  Count  Hugo  and  I  said,  I  could  tell  you 
easily  enough,  except  it  concerns  another  person." 

"  Ah,  Hugo  !     Noble,  interesting  sufferer  !  " 

"  What  Aunt  Adelheid  and  I  discussed  belongs 
to  her.  Yes,  most  emphatically.  So,  altogether,  I 
cannot  ask  you  to  show  me  my  path." 

"Dearest  girl,  I  feel  confident  that  you,"  sweetly 
accenting  the  pronoun,  "  will  always  choose  the  right 
path.  Nothing  else  causes  you  doubt  and  excite 
ment  ?  " 

"  I  think  not,"  replied  Gabrielle  candidly. 

"  You  do  not  consider  my  dear  young  friend  Lorenz 
important,  then  ?  Yet  he  was  full  of  joy  at  the 
thought  of  seeing  you  to-day." 

"  But  you  would  not  expect  me  to  call  his  conver- 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  247 

sation  important  ?  "  Gabrielle  retorted  mischievously. 
"  I  confess  that  he  is  concerned  in  my  vexations,  and 
more  than  I  like,"  she  added  with  spirit.  "  I  thought 
it  best  not  to  dilate  upon  the  matter,  but  perhaps 
I  ought  to  tell  you  that  Aunt  Adelheid  wishes  me 
to  ride  with  him  at  the  tournament,  and  I  have  re 
fused." 

"  Why  do  you  not  wish  to  ride  with  him  ?  "  inquired 
the  Frau  Major  placidly.  "  He  is  such  a  favorite  of 
mine.  So  gallant  —  so  —  so  manly  —  and  —  sweet- 
tempered." 

"Is  he  all  that?"  Gabrielle  asked  indifferently. 
"  I  find  him  amiable  and  droll.  It  is  not  that  I  ob 
ject  to  him,  but  I  do  not  wish  to  ride  at  all." 

"  And  why,  dear  child  ?  Tell  me.  Am  I  not  your 
friend?  "  urged  the  caressing  voice. 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  am  sure  that  you  are,"  Gabrielle  cried 
warmly.  "  I  have  a  score  of  little  reasons.  I  feel 
that  I  should  not  like  it." 

"  Feel !  "  repeated  the  Frau  Major,  raising  her  eye 
brows  with  an  indulgent  smile. 

"  For  one  thing,  the  costume  must  be  elegant,  and 
I  cannot  afford  it." 

"  Of  course  the  countess  arranges  that ;  you  would 
not  deny  her  that  pleasure  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  have  her  buy  velvet  and  brocade 
for  me,"  the  girl  rejoined  in  her  quick  way. 

"  Your  aunt  "  — 

"  By  courtesy  only." 

"  It  is  useless,"  thought  Gabrielle.  "  She  cannot 
and  ought  not  to  understand  that  it  is  hard  for  me  to 
accept  gifts  and  insults  from  the  same  person." 

"  Then  the  rehearsing  will  take  so  much  time." 

"  And  whose   time  is  all  her  own    if  not  yours  ? 


248  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

Who  has  a  better  right  to  freedom  and  gayety  and 
laughter  with  young  companions  ?  " 

Again  Gabrielle  looked  perplexed. 

"  How  can  I  explain  that  I  have  only  the  early 
morning,  and  with  the  blankets  I  am  to  embroider  for 
Mousey,  perhaps  not  that  ?  " 

"  I  am  more  occupied  than  I  seem  to  be,"  she  re 
plied  quietly,  "  but  there  are  still  other  reasons." 

The  Frau  Major  rose,  put  her  hands  affectionately 
on  Gabrielle' s  shoulders,  and  smilingly  said  :  — 

"  Do  not  search  for  them.  They  all  mean  simply 
that  the  little  girl  has  made  up  her  mind  to  be  wilful 
and  disappoint  her  friends.  Why  should  we  discuss 
it  longer  ?  Please  yourself,  dear  Gabrielle,  and  you 
will  please  me." 

Gabrielle  looked  discouraged. 

"  Ah,  you  think  it  is  merely  selfish.  Do  you  know 
it  is  the  first  time  that  I  have  refused  an  express  wish 
of  Aunt  Adelheid  ?  " 

The  Frau  Major  replied  gravely  :  — 

"  I  am  sure  that  you  are  considerate  toward  an 
old  lady  who  has  had  many  sorrows,  and  who  greatly 
desires  your  happiness." 

Both  were  silent  some  moments.  Gabrielle  fixed 
her  eyes  upon  the  rose  in  her  hand,  as  if  there  were 
wisdom  to  be  gained  from  its  pure  white  petals. 

"  You  do  not  urge  me.  You  do  not  blame  me. 
But  you  think  I  ought  to  ride,"  she  said  suddenly. 
"  Ah,  I  am  so  little  in  the  mood  for  it,  believe  me !  " 
Her  honest  young  eyes  looked  pleadingly  at  her 
friend. 

"  Then  why  ride,  my  dear  ?  You  '  feel '  that  you 
would  not  like  it.  You  are  not  in  the  '  mood.'  ' 

Gabrielle  watched  her  thoughtfully. 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  249 

Was  it  then  all  selfishness  and  prejudice  and  ob 
stinacy  and  caprice  ? 

"  You  evidently  will  not  persuade  me,  but  what  do 
you  really  think?  "  she  asked  doubtfully. 

The  Frau  Major  answered  in  her  reasonable  and 
convincing  fashion,  and  in  a  tone  as  inoffensive  as  a 
purling  brook,  that  she  certainly  did  not  desire  to 
influence  Gabrielle,  for  a  girl  had  a  right  to  her  little 
youthful  fancies  about  things,  and  why  should  she  be 
forced  even  to  enjoy  herself  ?  Still,  if  Gabrielle  really 
wished  her  to  give  her  views  of  a  not  very  important 
situation,  did  Gabrielle  not  take  it  all  a  little  too 
seriously?  Did  she  not  come  to  Wynburg,  to  see 
life,  to  go  into  society,  to  meet  and  know  people? 
Would  not  her  papa  like  her  to  enlarge  her  experi 
ence,  and  was  it  not  quite  natural  that  the  countess 
should  expect  her  to  take  part  in  whatever  festivities 
were  thoroughly  desirable  ?  Then  the  tournament 
would  be  so  choice,  so  distinguished,  so  artistic ;  not 
too  much  of  the  painter  element,  which  would  make 
it  Bohemian,  but  just  enough  to  impart  a  fresh  and 
attractive  flavor,  and  under  the  special  patronage  of 
royalty.  Indeed,  his  Highness  was  going  to  ride  in 
costume.  Why  should  Gabrielle  not  participate  in 
a  splendid  historical  pageant  ?  Why  be  a  recluse  at 
her  age  and  with  her  charm  ? 

The  angry  countess  had  made  use  of  practically 
the  same  arguments,  but  flowing  harmoniously  from 
the  lips  of  this  disinterested  woman,  they  seemed 
new  and  impressive.  Indeed,  at  all  times  the  Frau 
Major's  lightest  words,  which  if  spoken  by  a  flippant 
voice  would  have  sounded  commonplace  or  false,  were 
freighted  with  meaning,  and  suggested  unlimited 
reserve  power.  She  could  not  so  much  as  speak  of 


250  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

the  weather  without  a  certain  dignity  and  benevo 
lence  which  would  enlist  one's  sympathies  for  the 
rawest  day. 

She  now  glided  adroitly  from  the  riding  to  the 
riders. 

"  Mercedes  rides  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  And  that  would  be  delightful  for  you,  you  like 
her  so  much.  You  are  sure  that  you  would  not  prefer 
Egon  to  Lorenz  ?  They  are  both  dear  to  me.  I  knew 
them  as  children.  I  remember  them  as  pretty  boys 
in  pinafores.  You  do  not  prefer  Egon  ?  " 

"  Oh  dear,  no,"  Gabrielle  returned  with  a  little 
shrug.  "  One  is  as  good  as  the  other.  But  I  wish 
that  they  were  little  boys  in  pinafores  now.  I  should 
like  them  better  in  pinafores  than  in  uniforms."  She 
began  to  laugh.  "  Do  you  know  they  would  really  be 
lovely  in  pinafores  ?  They  have  such  plump  rosy 
cheeks,  and  such  nice  little  shaved  flaxen  heads,  and 
such  very  pale  blue  eyes." 

"  We  must  discuss  your  costume  with  the  countess," 
the  Frau  Major  remarked,  after  an  indulgent  smile 
for  her  special  pet's  little  jest. 

Gabrielle  did  not  remember  that  she  had  agreed  to 
ride,  but  she  felt  reluctant  to  begin  the  argument 
anew,  and  to  be  obstinate  and  unamiable  to  this  kind 
and  judicious  friend  who  had  taken  so  much  trouble 
to  convince  her. 

"  The  Misses  Mayer,"  announced  the  maid. 

"  Beg  them  to  kindly  wait  a  few  moments  in  the 
drawing-room. ' ' 

"  And  Lieutenant  von  Raven  and  Lieutenant  von 
Haller." 

Gabrielle  rose. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  251 

"  I  may  slip  out  unseen,  may  I  not  ?  " 

"  Ah,  will  you  not  come  in  and  chat  ?  The  dear 
little  mice  would  be  so  glad.  They  admire  you  so 
much." 

"  The  Countess  von  Kronfels,"  announced  another 
servant. 

"  No,  no,  I  won't  come  in,  thanks.  You  have  been 
so  kind." 

"  Come  often  to  me,  dearest  child.  Enjoy  yourself. 
And  if  I  may  presume  to  preach  a  small  sermon,  do 
not  be  such  a  serious  little  philosopher.  The  world 
is  very  kind  to  sweet  young  things  like  you.  If  we 
all  have  our  little  trials,  we  have  our  compensations. 
Your  dear  brown  eyes  will  not  always  be  clear  and 
strong.  Your  hair  will  some  day  be  gray  like  mine. 
Your  beauty  and  freshness  and  health,  which  are 
my  delight  as  if  you  were  my  own  dear  daughter,  can 
not  remain  as  they  are.  Then  be  happy  now,  dear 
girl,  and  do  not  be  too  wise.  Surely  you  have  no 
real  griefs." 

"  You  are  right.  I  have  none.  I  am  anything  but 
wise.  I  am  only  selfish  and  exacting.  But  you  have 
done  me  good.  A  thousand  thanks." 

"  The  Countess  von  Waldenberg  and  the  Countess 
Elsa." 

"  Ah,  the  whole  world  is  coming  !  Let  me  run  away. 
I  am  detaining  you." 

"  There  is  no  haste.  I  have  always  time  for  you," 
returned  the  sweet  voice  with  its  lingering  cadence. 
"  Let  me  be  a  comfort  to  you.  Let  me  aid  you,  for  you 
are  near  and  dear  to  me.  Be  happy,  child.  And  au 
revoir,  since  you  will  not  come  and  take  a  cup  of  tea 
with  us,  and  chat  about  the  tournament." 

It  was  with  some  surprise  that  Gabrielle  found  her- 


252  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

self  pledged  after  all  to  ride,  but  she  went  off  full  of 
confidence  and  veneration  for  the  Frau  Major,  and  de 
termined  to  seek  her  counsel  as  often  as  possible  arid 
try  to  learn  the  secret  of  her  kindly  atmosphere.  The 
countess  would  probably  remain  in  that  delectable 
circle  until  dinner-time.  Gabrielle  decided  to  make 
the  most  of  her  freedom.  She  passed  the  villa,  and 
her  friends  the  masons  under  the  shed,  who  took  off 
their  hats  with  alacrity  and  .smiled  as  she  went  quickly 
by;  but  Peter  greeted  her  with  incorruptible  and 
morose  melancholy,  insisting  upon  the  purity  of  his 
principles  after  as  before  the  flagon  episode. 

The  great  broad-backed  hill,  green  with  vineyards, 
met  the  sunny  May  sky.  She  followed  the  lane  wind- 
ing  along  its  base,  enjoyed  the  cool  freshness  of  the 
path  between  stone  walls,  and  the  smell  of  the  woods 
and  the  earth.  Beyond  >the  lane,  the  way  led  past 
orchards  and  neat  little  patches  of  market-gardens, 
where  stooping  blue  figures  were  working.  "  How 
kind  they  are  to  make  the  men's  shirts  and  the 
women's  aprons  of  the  blue  that  fades  into  that 
pretty  soft  dullness,"  she  thought  gayly. 

In  Leslach  she  spoke  to  some  children,  whose 
scanty  flaxen  locks  were  strained  back  and  braided 
into  shining  little  tails.  They  grinned  at  her  North 
German.  She  began  to  imitate  their  dialect.  At  this 
they  laughed  outright,  and  followed  her  facetiously  in 
single  file,  five  or  six  half  shy,  half  roguish  faces. 
How  it  would  shock  Aunt  Adelheid  !  She  gave  her 
guard  of  honor  a  few  pennies,  whereupon  Mariele 
and  Babele  and  Rickele  quickly  dispersed  to  regale 
themselves  at  a  booth,  where  an  old  woman  sold 
bretzels,  acidified  raspberry-shrub,  and  floury  high- 
colored  bonbons. 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  253 

A  couple  of  young  wolf-dogs  grew  excited  and 
leaped  about  furiously  as  she  drew  near  their  en 
closure.  But  when  she  stood  and  talked  soothingly 
to  them,  and  assured  them  that  she  was  an  intimate 
friend  of  their  family,  and  had  some  cousins  of  theirs 
at  her  own  home,  and  that  she  could  appreciate  their 
prejudices,  for  she  too  sometimes  felt  cooped-up  and 
irritable,  the  fiery  gleam  disappeared  from  their  small 
reddish  eyes,  and  they  became  friendly  and  expressed 
considerable  regret  when  she  finally  wandered  on. 

The  smallest  thing  gave  her  pleasure,  her  heart 
was  so  light  and  free.  For  she  had  responded  warmly 
and  gratefully  to  the  Frau  Major's  kindness,  and  to 
the  affectionate  tone  of  which  she  had  been  so  long 
deprived.  "  When  one  is  homesick,  one  is  simply 
irresponsible,"  she  admitted.  "  How  I  have  been 
abusing  everybody,  and  conjuring  up  ghouls  to  haunt 
the  best  society." 

Smiling,  looking  pretty  and  happy  and  dainty,  she 
stopped  in  surprise,  as  a  great  bell  sounded  suddenly 
near  her,  and  out  of  a  court  came  running,  chatter 
ing,  springing,  thirty  or  forty  factory  girls,  each 
holding  a  beer-glass,  and  hurrying  across  the  pave 
ment  and  the  street  to  a  garden  over  the  way.  They 
reminded  her  of  the  cigar-factory  girls  in  Carmen, 
except  here  was  no  coquetry,  no  theatrical  effect. 
Ugly  and  pretty,  young  and  old,  they  came  trooping 
out  rudely  and  roughly,  intent  upon  quenching  their 
thirst  and  getting  back  in  time.  Gabrielle  could  not 
go  on  without  pressing  through  the  turbulent  little 
army.  She  drew  back  and  watched  them.  Some 
were  stolid  and  weary ;  some  comely  young  faces  re 
turned  her  gaze  with  not  unfriendly  curiosity.  Others 
stopped  with  a  half -finished  jest  upon  their  lips  to 


254  THE  OPEN  DOOR. 

nudge  one  another  and  call  attention  to  her  hat  or 
gown.  There  were  bold,  unpleasant  leers  among  them 
too,  and  in  the  rear  two  women  loitered  and  walked 
so  close  to  her  that  she  instinctively  retreated  a  step, 
to  avoid  the  touch  of  their  threatening  elbows  and 
shoulders,  when  one  stood  and  devoured  her  with 
ugly,  insolent  eyes  in  which  Gabrielle,  to  her  surprise 
and  discomfort,  perceived  something  intentionally  sin 
ister  and  brutal. 

"  Why  does  she  hate  me  ?  "  she  asked  herself,  trou 
bled,  and  walked  on  quickly.  The  woman  gazed  after 
her,  neglecting  her  beer  to  follow  with  aggressive 
glances  the  well-clothed,  well-fed,  well-cared-for  girl, 
who  could  saunter  about  smiling,  with  gloves  on  her 
idle  hands. 

"  That  dark  woman  has  the  evil  eye,"  Gabrielle 
thought,  waiting  at  a  safe  distance  until  the  wild 
troop,  with  emptied  glasses,  streamed  out  of  the  beer- 
garden,  recrossed  the  court,  and  returned  to  their 
looms  and  shuttles.  The  street  seemed  suddenly  dark 
and  still,  after  the  passing  of  those  loud  colors,  noisy 
feet,  and  boisterous  voices. 

She  turned  thoughtfully  toward  home.  On  a  cross 
street  she  saw  straw  strewn  thick  before  a  house  with 
closed  shutters,  and  from  the  door  came  a  Sister  of 
Mercy  with  noiseless  step  and  downcast  eyes,  and 
under  the  white  cap  of  her  order  the  serene  face 
which  such  as  she  know  how  to  bring  from  weary 
midnight  vigils  and  the  chamber  of  death. 

They  were  all  every-day  sights  and  sounds,  but  Ga- 
brielle's  spirit,  startled  by  the  hatred  in  the  coarse 
woman's  eyes,  had  lost  its  brief  lightness,  and  as  she 
returned  through  the  village  and  the  quiet  lane,  her 
mind  dwelt  upon  the  old,  old  questions  which  sooner 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  255 

or  later  torment  every  heart  large  enough  to  care  for 
joy  and  sorrow  beyond  its  own.  The  toil  of  the  fac 
tory  girls,  the  vast  ease  of  the  countess  who  yet  each 
day  manufactured  wrongs  and  grievances  for  herself; 
lovely  Mercedes  deliberately  choosing  that  unlovely, 
unloving  fate,  the  little  black-robed  sweet-faced  Sister ; 
the  pain  and  tears  of  the  silent  house,  the  laughter  of 
the  children ;  Peter's  scowl  at  the  world's  injustice 
and  the  malignant  resentment  of  the  strange  woman; 
Bernhard  Dietz's  healthful,  joyous  presence,  the  lame 
count's  dark  mournful  eyes  and  pale  drawn  face  look 
ing  up  at  her  from  his  red  cushions ;  the  people  work 
ing  in  the  fields  and  at  the  forge  as  she  passed,  —  and 
this  time  she  did  not  think  of  the  color  of  the  blouse, 
but  of  the  aching  back  beneath  it,  —  the  gay,  selfish 
circle  working  only  to  amuse  itself;  the  mean  little 
houses  on  the  outskirts  of  the  village  where  small  chil 
dren  and  old  women  were  splitting  wood  and  drawing 
water,  the  great  luxurious  empty  villa  where  fifteen 
human  beings  seemed  to  be  necessary  for  the  comfort 
of  three,  all  these  sharp  and  cruel  contrasts  loomed 
up  before  her  as  distinctly  as  if  they  were  rocks  along 
the  path.  Poverty  for  one,  infamy  for  another,  dis 
tinction  for  a  third,  and  why  —  why?  And  why 
build  our  ease  upon  the  pain  and  misery  of  other 
hearts  ? 

"  I  wish  I  could  go  back  and  speak  to  that  woman 
with  the  hate  in  her  eyes,"  she  thought.  "  I  would 
tell  her  that  I  am  sorry  for  many  things.  I  should 
like  to  say  to  her  that  I  would  rather  work  in  that 
factory  all  day  and  every  day,  and  be  with  my  papa 
evenings,  than  live  the  life  I  am  leading  now  without 
him.  Perhaps  she  would  not  hate  me  if  she  knew 
that."  Pondering  upon  these  sorrowful  problems 


256  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

which  met  her  face  to  face,  yet  innocently  blind  to 
the  vast  and  mournful  ones  of  disease  and  crime  be 
yond  her  knowledge,  and  reasoning  in  a  circle  after 
the  fashion  of  many  a  wiser  head,  she  entered  the 
villa  and  met  Lipps  in  the  lower  corridor. 

He  stood  and  stared  at  her  in  a  dejected,  helpless 
way. 

"  What  is  it,  Lipps  ?  "  she  asked  kindly. 

"  I  don't  know  what  it  is ;  and  if  I  don't,"  he  began 
dully,  "  nobody  does  !  "  he  broke  out  with  a  kind  of 
desperation.  "  But  I  am  taking  a  liberty.  I  beg  the 
gracious  fraulein's  pardon." 

"  Oh,  never  mind  the  liberty.  Besides,  it  is  n't  a 
liberty." 

"  I  was  so  glad  when  the  gracious  fraulein  came  in 
to-day,"  the  poor  fellow,  thus  encouraged,  began  to 
say  hurriedly,  with  a  watchful  eye  on  the  staircase. 
"  Thinks  I  to  myself,  there 's  one  straight,  right 
thing  happened  in  this  crooked  house.  That 's  what 
ought  to  be.  The  young  lady  in  our  wing.  And  I 
felt  as  light  as  air.  It 's  no  use.  He  's  worse  than 
ever.  He  's  in  his  dumb  starings." 

"  In  what,  Lipps  ?     I  do  not  understand." 

"  After  the  gracious  fraulein  went,  was  he  cheerful, 
was  he  happy,  as  I  like  a  fool  expected  ?  No,  he  was 
awful,"  groaned  the  servant.  "  Something  settled 
down  on  his  face  like  a  fog  —  like  midnight.  Oh, 
I  know  it.  It  was  there  always  at  first,  but  it  got 
better.  He  does  not  move  or  speak ;  he  scarcely 
breathes  ;  he  only  stares  straight  before  him  with  his 
big  eyes." 

"  Was  it  directly  after  I  went  ?  " 

"  Begging  the  gracious  fraulein's  pardon,  it  was.  I 
kind  of  hung  round  softly  ;  I  could  n't  bear  to  leave 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  257 

him  like  that.  Says  he,  '  Lipps,  you  may  go  ;  and 
let  no  one  in,  no  one,  do  you  understand  ?  '  Says  I, 
kind  of  venturing,  '  Not  even  Herr  Dietz  ? '  For  he 
is  uncommon  cheery,  and  Count  Hugo  watches  him, 
and  smiles  in  the  old  careless  way.  '  No  one,'  says  he, 
and  shut  his  mouth  like  a  nut-cracker.  I  know  what 
it  means  now.  Dumbness  for  days,  and  a  look  in  his 
eyes  that  makes  me  ache."  The  man  gave  a  gulp 
which  he  discreetly  transformed  into  a  cough  behind 
his  hand. 

"  I  am  so  sorry,  Lipps,  —  so  sorry !  "  Gabrielle 
stammered. 

On  the  landing,  half-way  up  the  great  stairway, 
appeared  Mousey,  freshly  combed  and  wearing  a 
white  cravat.  He  regarded  the  two  with  his  worldly 
air  of  intelligent  scrutiny,  turned  himself  about,  and 
promenaded  up-stairs.  Gabrielle  started  as  if  he 
were  a  human  messenger  admonishing  her  that  din 
ner  was  imminent,  and  that  she  should  hastily  prepare 
for  that  portentous  rite.  Shortly  after,  the  butler, 
the  countess,  smiling  and  debonair  in  stiff  satin,  with 
a  pink  rose  blooming  in  her  cap  and  speaking  French 
volubly  to  the  snapping  idol  on  her  arm,  demure  Ba- 
bette  with  a  scarf,  and  Rb'schen  with  Mousey 's  rug, 
came  in  the  usual  slow  and  superb  procession  down 
the  marble  stairway. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

"  How  is  he  to-day,  Lipps  ?  "  inquired  Gabrielle. 
coming  down  for  the  afternoon  drive  before  the 
countess,  and  meeting  the  man  in  the  hall. 

"  Nothing  but  a  corpse  and  Count  Hugo  can  be  as 
still  as  that,"  he  answered  drearily. 

Each  day  she  heard  a  similar  response,  and  turned 
away  with  a  pang  of  self-reproach. 

"  What  did  I  do  to  him  ?  "  she  asked  herself.  "  How 
could  I  have  hurt  him  ?  Ah,  if  I  had  not  gone  in  !  " 

After  some  days,  Lipps  announced  with  nascent 
hopefulness,  and  in  a  mysterious  whisper,  for  the  but 
ler  was  passing :  — 

"  He  's  got  as  far  as  the  little  black  book." 

"  I  don't  know  what  that  means,  but  I  hope  with 
all  my  heart  that  it  is  something  pleasant." 

"  It  might  n't  be  very  pleasant  for  anybody  else," 
Lipps  admitted,  "  for  we  are  gloomy  still,  and  not  so 
much  appetite  as  a  canary.  But  the  book  is  better 
than  the  stare,  and  when  he  takes  it  up  again,  I  know 
that  he  is  kind  of  working  along  out  of  the  fog." 

She  wondered  what  he  meant,  and  thoughtfully 
regarded  his  ugly,  unselfish,  faithful  countenance, 
softened  now  with  feeling,  and  brightened  by  a  slight 
ray  of  hope.  "  I  am  glad  that  he  has  you,  Lipps," 
she  said  sweetly. 

Lipps's  affection  was  not  rhetorical.  He  hesitated, 
gulped,  stammered,  coughed,  flushed,  and  rejoined  in 
uncouth  agitation  :  — 


THE    OPEN  DOOR  259 

"  If  being  chopped  in  pieces  would  do  any  good,  all 
I  'd  have  to  say  is  '  Chop  !  '  " 

But  Gabrielle  understood  him  as  well  as  if  he  had 
uttered  the  eloquent  heart-cry  of  a  poet,  and  replied 
softly :  — 

44  Only  let  jne  know  when  I  can  do  anything  for 
him,  or  for  you." 

At  the  close  of  this  interview,  the  countess,  passing 
down  to  the  carriage,  cast  upon  them  the  peculiar 
glance  of  vague  distrust  which  she  habitually  be 
stowed  upon  any  two  persons  talking  together  in  her 
house  with  an  appearance  of  good  understanding,  and 
demanded  testily,  as  they  drove  away  :  — 

"  Why  do  you  talk  to  that  man,  Gabrielle  ?  " 

44 1  was  inquiring  after  Count  Hugo." 

44  Of  course.  I  did  not  imagine  that  you  were  talk 
ing  astronomy.  But  I  always  send  Babette,  that  is, 
when  I  do  not  go  myself ;  and  as  His  Royal  Highness 
is  having  a  fit  of  the  sulks  and  ostracizing  me  for 
some  days,  I  cannot  now  present  myself  in  person. 
But  I  never  encourage  Lipps  to  talk ;  I  distrust  him. 
Mousey's  instinct  is  unerring,  is  it  not,  dear  pet  ? 
Yes,  so  it  was  !  Then  Hugo  spoils  the  man.  You 
could  send  Roschen,  I  suppose  ?  " 

44 1  could  ;  yes." 

44  For  my  part,  I  neither  go  nor  send  too  often  to 
inquire  just  now.  I  found  his  doors  locked  several 
times  ;  but  I  can  overlook  the  incivility.  It  is  best 
to  wait  till  he  recovers  his  equanimity.  One  must 
have  patience  with  an  invalid's  moods,"  she  added 
sententiously.  44  Hugo  has  his  ups  and  downs.  One 
must  have  tact  and  consideration.  Yes,  one  must,  my 
bright-eyed  little  man  !  How  clear  his  precious  little 
bark  sounds.  So  jovial !  Gabrielle,  really  you  have 


260  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

an  amazing  stare.  I  am  not  aware  that  there  is  any 
thing  preposterous  in  my  remarks  or  personal  appear 
ance.  My  bonnet,  I  trust,  is  not  awry,  nor  my  hair 
in  maniacal  disorder." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  returned  the  young  girl  with 
a  slight  choking  sensation.  ^  There  is  nothing  the 
matter  with  your  bonnet,  or  your  hair.'^ 

"  You  look  positively  incredulous,"  declared  the  old 
lady,  angrily  insistent.  "Perhaps  you  know  best. 
Perhaps  you  wish  to  contradict." 

Away  flew  Gabrielle's  restive  resolutions.  "  I  did 
not  know  how  I  was  looking,"  she  began  with  spirit. 
"  I  certainly  never  wish  to  be  rude  to  you,  Aunt  Adel- 
heid  ;  but  I  was  thinking  that  if  I  were  Count  Hugo's 
mother,  I  would  not  leave  him  night  or  day,  and 
nothing  would  give  me  any  joy,  —  not  friends,  not 
toilettes,  or  gayety,  or  books,  or  the  king  himself,  — 
nothing,  nothing  in  the  whole  wide  world  outside 
of  those  four  walls,  —  nothing  but  the  thought  of  car 
ing  for  him,  and  comforting  him,  if  with  only  a  word 
—  a  look  —  a  clasp  of  the  hand." 

She  stopped,  her  cheeks  glowing,  her  voice  broken, 
and  she  anticipated  for  her  crime  the  severest  punish 
ment  known  to  her  tyrant,  —  something  resembling 
the  bastinado,  followed  by  decapitation.  But  the  mar 
vellously  versatile  countess  broke  into  a  laugh  so  light 
and  girlish  and  merry  that  it  startled  Gabrielle,  and 
suggested,  under  the  circumstances,  the  vagaries  of  an 
unsound  mind. 

"  Tiens,  tiens,  I  must  tell  Hugo  that.  She  says  she 
would  like  to  sit  and  hold  Hugo's  hands.  Do  you  hear 
her,  Mousey,  my  treasure  ?  Oh,  what  a  droll  idea ! 
Bless  my  little  angel-love !  Yes,  he  was  an  angel ! 
And  when  he  died,  he  should  go  straight  to  heaven, 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  261 

like  Martin  Luther's  little  dog,  and.  have  a  little  golden 
tail,  like  his  !  So  he  should !  For  he  was  a  thousand 
times  sweeter "  (kiss)  "  and  cleverer  "  (kiss)  "  and 
handsomer  and  more  angelic "  (kiss)  "  than  Martin 
Luther's  little  dog,  yes,  so  he  was !  " 

Gabrielle  shrank  into  her  corner  to  retreat  from  the 
extraordinary  plunges  and  dives  of  the  breathless  old 
lady,  devouring  the  snarling,  struggling  animal  with 
kisses.  The  young  girl,  with  a  curious  mingling  of 
emotions,  a  ferment  of  generous  indignation,  compas 
sion,  wonder,  and  disgust,  found  herself  involuntarily 
picturing  Mousey  in  a  purer  world,  wagging  the  pro 
posed  decorative  adjunct ;  and  she  reflected  that  if,  as 
some  claim,  both  man  and  beast  will  receive  in  another 
sphere  exact  compensation  for  the  deprivations  of  this 
life,  then  surely  a  golden  tail  on  Mousey  would  be  but 
a  logical  sequence. 

The  following  morning  she  sat  in  the  garden  em 
broidering  a  yellow  dog-blanket  in  gold.  It  was  the 
special  design  of  the  countess,  who  said  that  her  idol 
"  with  his  fair  hair  would  be  a  splendid  bit  of  color, 
a  sunbeam,  a  little  golden  glory,  a  Phoebus- Apollo 
doggums !  " 

Gabrielle  looked  up  smiling,  as  Lipps  came  hurry 
ing  toward  her. 

"  If  the  gracious  fraulein  pleases,  the  count  is  bet 
ter." 

"  Ah,  I  am  very  glad,"  she  returned  warmly. 

"  And  I  am  to  go  for  Herr  Dietz." 

"  He  will  be  good  for  him,  I  am  sure." 

"  But  he  could  n't  take  care  of  him  ?  "  Lipps  stam 
mered  uneasily. 

"  As  you  do  ?  Never  I  Nobody  could,"  she  de 
clared  heartily. 


262  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Lipps  looked  relieved,  and  presently  said  :  — 

"  It 's  an  awful  thing  to  be  afraid." 

"  Afraid  ?  You  were  distressed,  Lipps,  but  not 
afraid  ?fc  There  surely  was  no  danger  ?  " 

All  intelligence  faded  conveniently  out  of  the  man's 
face.  "  The  gracious  fraulein  knows  best,"  he  mut 
tered  in  his  humblest  and  stupidest  manner,  and  stole 
off  on  cautious  tip-toe. 

Presently  he  repassed,  followed  by  Dietz.  Gabri- 
elle  had  never  seen  him  walking  on  earth  like  other 
men.  To  her  he  meant  a  voice,  a  note  of  gladness  up 
in  the  higher  air,  and  she  regarded  him  with  pleased 
surprise,  as  the  tall  white  figure,  towering  head  and 
shoulders  above  Lipps,  and  with  stone-dust  powdering 
his  great  beard,  emerged  from  the  shrubbery.  He 
snatched  off  his  paper-cap  as  he  perceived  her,  and 
strode  on  with  a  slow  long  step.  Lipps  looked  eager, 
anxious,  pleased,  and  fussy.  The  broad-shouldered 
giant  behind  him  wore  an  air  of  deep  and  gentle  repose. 

Gabrielle  stitched  various  curious  reflections  into 
the  canine  Apollo's  golden  mantle. 

Lipps  ushered  Bernhard  into  the  count's  room,  and 
left  them. 

Dietz  stood  looking  down  with  his  kindly  smiling 
eyes  upon  Hugo,  who  said  languidly :  — 

"  Ah,  good  morning,  Dietz.  It  is  good  of  you  to 
come  over  at  once." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  replied  Bernhard,  noting  the  count's 
excessive  pallor  and  the  weariness  of  his  voice. 

After  several  moments  of  gentle  scrutiny,  Bernhard 
continued  :  — 

"  You  have  been  —  worse  ?  "  He  was  about  to  say 
"ill,"  but  scarcely  knew  what  word  to  use  to  a  man 
always  on  his  back. 


THE    OPEN    DOOR.  263 

"  I  have  been  —  the  devil !  "  returned  the  count  with 
a  short  laugh. 

The  men  again  regarded  each  other  in  silence.  Sud 
denly  Hugo  turned  slightly,  and  with  his  nervous  hand 
clutched  Dietz's  arm  and  held  it  fast.  In  that  one  mo 
ment  the  lonely  soul  imprisoned  within  the  crippled 
body  surrendered  its  pride,  confessed  its  pain  and 
weakness,  and  reached  out  through  the  longing  eyes 
for  human  sympathy. 

In  Bernhard's  face  was  boundless  pity,  but  the  kind 
eyes  were  smiling  as  a  mother  smiles  on  her  suffering 
child,  and  slowly  lifting  his  left  arm,  he  covered  with 
his  broad,  brown  palm  the  emaciated  fingers  grasping 
his  wrist. 

At  this,  Hugo  broke  into  an  ungovernable  paroxysm 
of  weeping.  Shaken  by  deep  ,sobs,  he  buried  his  face 
in  the  cushions,  and  lay  helpless  and  broken  in  a  tem 
pest  of  emotion. 

Dietz  turned  away,  bowed  his  head,  and  waited. 

At  length  the  count  recovered  himself.  For  some 
moments  he  lay  motionless,  except  for  an  occasional 
long,  shuddering  sigh  that  shook  his  whole  frame. 

"  Damn  my  woman's  nerves !  "  he  muttered. 

Dietz  approached  the  sofa. 

"  Count,"  he  began  in  his  calm,  mellow  voice,  "  will 
you  let  me  take  you  out  into  the  garden  ?  It  is  a  won 
derful  morning  for  freshness  and  birds  and  sweet 
smells.  There  is  a  little  white  birch  out  there.  You 
can  see  it  from  your  corner  by  the  fountain.  It 's  as 
pretty  as  a  girl.  So  straight  and  slender,  —  and  mod 
est  yet  kind  of  beckoning.  And  the  air  —  you  never 
breathed  such  air  —  the  air  is  the  best  doctor  on  earth, 
and  you  have  been  in  the  house  too  long,  count. 
That 's  what 's  the  matter." 


264  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  I  wish  you  could  stay  here,"  said  Hugo  wearily. 

"  Well,  I  can't.     May  I  take  you  out  ?  " 

Hugo  stared  straight  at  the  swallow  on  the  ceiling. 

After  a  while  he  asked,  — 

"  Is  any  one  out  there  ?  " 

"  That  beautiful  young  lady  —  your  cousin  —  is 
sitting  on  a  bench  near  the  house,  sewing  on  something 
yellow." 

"  I  don't  feel  well  enough  to  be  moved  this  morn 
ing,"  Hugo  rejoined  quickly  after  another  pause. 

Dietz  reflected.  His  mind  was  not  rapid  in  seizing 
conclusions,  but  he  thought,  "Every  sick  man  is  a 
child.  One  must  act  for  him." 

"  Wait,"  he  said  placidly,  and  left  the  room. 

Presently  Gabrielle  saw  him  coming  across  the  grass 
toward  her. 

She  looked  up  inquiringly. 

He  pulled  off  his  paper-cap,  and  said  in  his  tranquil 
way :  — 

"  The  count  is  coming  out  here." 

Gabrielle  sprang  up,  gathered  together  her  silks  and 
gold  thread  and  scissors  and  little  basket,  and  stood 
ready  to  take  instant  flight. 

Dietz  was  surprised  at  this  extremely  rapid  response 
to  his  mission,  and  explained  :  — 

"  He  did  not  tell  me  that  he  wished  you  to  go  away. 
But  he  is  ill  and  nervous.  I  think  he  dreads  seeing 
anybody.  He  ought  to  be  out  here." 

"  Of  course  he  ought,"  Gabrielle  agreed  heartily. 
"  I  will  go  at  once.  I  am  glad  to  go.  I  thank  you 
for  telling  me." 

She  started  toward  the  house.  He  followed  more 
slowly.  At  the  door,  she  turned  and  waited. 

"  You  do  him  good,  Herr  Dietz,"  she  said.     "  You 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  265 

seem  to  be  the  only  one  who  can,"  she  added  a  little 
sadly. 

"  The  fresh  growing  things  will  do  him  good,"  Bern- 
hard  rejoined.  He  liked  her  way  of  holding  up  her 
pretty  head,  and  looking  straight  into  his  eyes,  thought 
fully  yet  very  cordially,  and  with  something  soft  yet 
courageous  in  her  manner.  She  was  about  as  old  as 
his  Roschen,  he  decided. 

"  There  is  nobody  out  there,"  Bernhard  announced 
to  Hugo,  who  glanced  up  sharply. 

"  The  lady  who  was  there  has  gone  in,"  Dietz  added, 
"  and  I  'm  going  to  take  you  out  now."  Hugo,  weary, 
spent,  and  passive,  let  the  strong  man  and  Lipps  do 
with  him  what  they  would. 

Dietz  turned  the  invalid's  chair  toward  the  point 
in  the  tangled  shrubbery  where  the  maidenly  birch 
gleamed  white  among  the  hawthorns  and  acacias  and 
willows.  The  water  plashed  softly  from  the  dragon's 
head.  There  was  a  warm  balsamic  odor  from  the 
rank  neglected  pines  and  cedars  and  firs  and  larches. 
The  lilac  bushes  waved  their  violet  and  white  plumes, 
and  exhaled  their  strong  breath  to  mingle  with  the 
delicate  fragrance  of  fruit  blossoms  and  the  fine  odors 
of  innumerable  shrubs.  Nearer  the  house,  a  row  of 
huge  horse-chestnut  trees  raised  their  massive  leafy 
domes,  crowned  with  rich  tropical  spikes,  from  which 
with  every  breeze  fell  a  snow-storm  of  white  petals. 
There  was  a  mysterious  murmur  in  the  poplar  leaves, 
a  hum  of  bees  and  insects,  a  flutter  and  a  twitter  and 
a  warbling  of  birds. 

"  I  am  the  one  ugly  spot  in  Nature's  May  pageant," 
thought  Hugo.  Dietz  stood  with  his  hands  on  his 
hips,  looking  about  and  smiling  as  contentedly  as  if 
he  had  made  it  all.  "  It 's  healing,"  he  remarked. 


266  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  It 's  a  disgrace  to  a  civilized  household,"  Hugo 
retorted  querulously.  "  There  's  enough  raw  material 
here  to  stock  ten  respectable  gardens." 

Dietz  gave  him  the  sweetest  glance  that  ever  a  big 
man  in  a  blouse  bestowed  upon  one  of  his  own  sex, 
and  without  speaking  continued  to  investigate  the 
secrets  of  the  surrounding  tanglewood. 

"  I  'm  going,  count,"  he  said  at  length. 

"  I  have  taken  a  great  deal  of  your  time,"  rejoined 
Hugo. 

"Why  not?" 

Hugo  looked  at  him  affectionately,  and  with  a  faint 
flash  of  amusement. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  more  sensible  to  ask  '  Why  ?  ' 
rather  than  always  4  Why  not  ?  '  "  he  remarked.  But 
Dietz  took  his  meaning,  whatever  it  might  have  been, 
as  another  incomprehensible  and  unimportant  whim 
of  a  sick  man,  and  wasted  no  thought  on  it. 

"  Do  you  think  you  can  come  over  again  to-day  ?  " 

"  I  '11  come  as  often  as  you  want  me.  Don't  hesi 
tate  to  send,  for  I  work  by  the  job,  you  know,"  Bern- 
hard  added  practically,  "  not  by  the  day.  I  'm  well 
enough  along  to  spare  a  little  time  for  you,"  he  went 
on  cordially,  "  for  I  begin  before  the  other  men,  and 
work  longer,  and  often  through  the  nooning.  That 's 
because  my  work  is  pleasanter  than  theirs,"  he  ex 
plained  modestly.  "  If  they  had  my  work  they  'd  like 
to  begin  earlier,  when  the  morning  is  fresh.  Mine 
is  the  pleasantest  work  in  the  world.  Sometimes  I 
hope,"  he  went  on  with  a  genial  laugh,  "  that  if  I  'm 
lucky  enough  to  get  into  the  New  Jerusalem  they  talk 
about,  there  '11  still  be  a  little  building  going  on,  for 
I  should  n't  feel  at  home  without  a  block  of  stone  to 
chip  at." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  267 

"  Have  you  never  longed  to  carry  it  farther,  Dietz?" 
and  Hugo  fixed  his  eyes  curiously  on  the  placid  face. 
"  Have  you  never  desired  to  create,  to  be  an  artist,  not 
an  artisan  —  a  real  sculptor  ?  " 

"  Oh,  when  a  man 's  young,  he  has  his  fancies," 
Bemhard  admitted.  "  Yes,  I  went  through  all  that. 
You  ought  to  see  the  queer  things  I  modelled.  It 
cost  me  some  tears  and  sleepless  nights  before  I  gave 
it  up.  But  it 's  a  good  thing  for  a  man  to  find  his 
level.  Anybody  can  see  there  's  no  artist  in  me.  Still 
I  'm  the  artist's  very  good  tool.  I  'm  a  part  of  him 
and  his  work.  That's  the  way  I  look  at  it,  count. 
But  there  's  one  thing  I  am  going  to  do  before  I  die," 
he  said  with  sudden  shyness.  "  I  am  thinking  of  it 
all  the  time ;  I  have  almost  got  it,  only  it  changes  ;  it 
comes  and  goes/'  He  put  his  hand  over  his  eyes  an 
instant,  then  threw  back  his  head  and  smiled.  "  It 
will  come  yet ;  it  will  come  and  stay,  and  then  I  shall 
envy  none  of  the  great  ones.  But  there  !  I  am  wan 
dering  off  again,"  he  said  apologetically.  "  There  are 
things  that  make  a  fool  of  a  man." 

Hugo  watched  him  languidly,  wondering  at  the  soft 
ness  of  his  voice.  "  Have  you  no  troubles,  Dietz  ?  " 

Bernhard  hesitated. 

"  Yes,  count,  but  no  more  than  are  healthy  for  a 
man.  But  I  must  go.  There  's  something  you  do 
like  a  girl,"  he  added  with  his  indulgent  smile. 

"I  don't  doubt  it,"  Hugo  said  curtly.  "That  is 
my  impression  of  a  good  deal  of  my  conduct." 

"  You  only  begin  to  talk  when  I  really  can't  stay." 

"  Oh,  is  that  all  ?  That  is  my  feminine  slyness, 
Dietz.  I  like  to  keep  you  with  me,"  and  Hugo  held 
out  his  hand.  "  It 's  no  use  trying  to  thank  you,"  he 
said  with  much  feeling. 


268  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  I  wish  you  good  rest  and  good  thoughts,  count," 
returned  Bernhard  simply,  and  went. 

But  he  would  not  have  considered  Hugo's  thoughts 
good. 

"  The  truth  is,"  he  reflected,  occupying  himself,  as 
soon  as  he  was  alone,  with  his  ever-haunting  theme, 
taking  it  up  where  he  had  left  it,  as  one  opens  a 
familiar,  well-loved  book,  and  reads  on  wherever  the 
glance  falls,  "  every  man  to  whom  the  question  pre 
sents  itself  has  the  right  to  decide  it.  The  pious 
souls  who  think  the  Bible  forbids  it  with  c  Thou  shalt 
not  kill '  seem  to  feel  no  virtuous  repugnance  toward 
the  existence  of  capital  punishment  or  war.  What 
twaddle  conventional  morality  is  !  Obermann  is  about 
right.  When  I  am  able-bodied  and  happy  and  love 
life,  I  am  taught  that  it  is  sweet  and  glorious  to  die 
for  the  fatherland.  Wretched,  useless,  longing  for 
death,  I  am  warned  that  I  have  no  right  over  my  own 
existence,  and  that  it  is  a  crime  to  shorten  it.  Logical, 
that !  If  it  is  dear  and  beautiful,  it  is  my  duty  and 
privilege  to  sacrifice  it.  If  it  is  hideous,  I  must  cling 
to  it.  It  is  honorable  for  me  to  march  out  and  kill  a 
man  who  never  harmed  me,  and  who  desires  to  live. 
To  seek  death  when  I  fear  and  hate  it  is  noble.  To 
seek  it  when  I  long  for  it  is  sin.  If  my  life  does  not 
belong  to  me,  what  right  have  I  to  consent  to  risk  it 
in  war  ?  Can  I  give  what  I  do  not  possess  ?  If  I  as 
an  individual  have  110  such  right,  whence  then  the 
right  of  society,  or  a  government,  or  any  corporation 
or  union  of  individuals  to  demand  my  life  for  their 
purposes  ?  I  claim  no  angelic  purity  of  motive.  I 
admit  that  my  views  are  low  and  selfish.  But  they 
relate  only  to  one  worthless  existence ;  and  are  n't 
they,  all  in  all,  as  lofty  and  rational  as  the  bickerings 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  269 

of  nations  about  boundaries  and  South  Sea  colonies 
and  fishing-smacks  and  the  claimants  of  penny-thrones 
—  for  which,  in  the  sacred  name  of  patriotism,  gov 
ernments  are  ready  to  slaughter  millions  of  men? 
So  far  as  consistency  is  concerned,  neither  saints  nor 
sinners  are  in  a  position  to  throw  stones.  No,  death 
comes  sooner  or  later  to  us  all.  It  is  not  like  a 
wrong,  a  crime,  or  suffering  that  could  be  avoided. 
What  harm  in  anticipating  the  inevitable  end  ?  Who 
dares  pronounce  it  unpardonable  ?  W^ho  can  prove  it 
is  not  desirable  ?  If  a  man  has  duties,  responsibil 
ities,  —  a  wife,  a  child,  a  single  soul  to  whom  he  owes 
protection  or  allegiance,  the  question  assumes  other 
proportions.  But  who  on  this  earth  is  so  alone  as  I  ? 
Not  a  dog  would  be  worse  off  for  my  death !  Some 
times  it  does  seem  to  me  like  a  certain  form  of  de 
sertion,  but  that,  no  doubt,  is  early  prejudice,  instilled 
into  me  by  my  elders  and  betters  ;  and  it  may  be 
vanity,  too.  One  regards  one's  existence  as  too  im 
portant,  even  in  a  maimed,  miserable  hulk  like  mine." 

The  air  was  sleepy  and  still  and  growing  warmer. 
There  was  a  ceaseless  soothing  murmur  of  living 
things  and  fluttering  foliage.  Hugo  stared  wearily 
into  the  cloudless  sky.  "  Suppose,  above  that  blue, 
there  were,  after  all,  the  heaven  and  the  great  white 
throne  in  which  the  church  teaches  we  must  believe 
or  be  damned.  Suppose  I,  having  this  day  the  choice 
to  stay  or  go,  should  go,  and  should  stand  before  the 
throne.  Why,  then,  so  far  as  I  see,  I  would  have  the 
right  to  say  :  — 

"  Lord,  it  was  Thy  will,  since  Thy  will  is  omnipo 
tent.  If  Thy  will  is  not  omnipotent,  then  let  my 
soul  travel  farther,  and  like  St.  Christopher,  seek  the 
Mightiest.  Him  only  will  I  serve." 


270  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

He  took  out  his  little  black  book.  During  the  few 
previous  weeks  he  had  added  to  his  notes  and  quota 
tions  and  pasted  in  newspaper  cuttings.  He  regarded 
his  collection  with  a  certain  complacency.  There  was 
a  great  deal  of  carefully  sifted  information  in  it. 

With  morbid  exactness  he  considered  the  great 
suicides  of  antiquity,  their  motives,  and  their  details. 
"There  is  a  vast  difference  between  the  calm  and 
classic  manner,  and  the  modern  sensational  style. 
There  is  a  rational  and  an  irrational  kind.  When, 
for  instance,  a  boy  and  girl  lash  themselves  together 
and  jump  into  a  lake,  because  their  cruel  parents  won't 
let  them  marry,  that  is  eminently  irrational,  for  the 
chances  are  ten  to  one  that  if  they  do  nothing  rash, 
they  may  live  to  thank  their  parents ;  and  again,  if 
they  were  permitted  to  marry,  perhaps  they  would 
jump  into  the  lake  separately.  Then  the  '  woman 
scorned '  who  shoots  her  faithless  lover  and  herself,  — 
that 's  very  yellow-covered ;  and  in  my  humble  opin 
ion,  she  never  loved  him ;  she  loved  herself.  Now 
here  is  an  account  of  two  young  girls,  promenading 
in  the  moonlight  before  a  certain  castle,  and  taking 
poison  beneath  a  young  man's  windows.  It  is  vulgar 
and  stagey.  The  newspapers  are  full  of  such  things. 
The  doctors  say  it  is  a  malady,  and  increasing.  Look 
ing  at  it  fairly,  it  seems  that  in  most  cases  in  my  list 
it  is  caused  by  drugs,  or  drink,  or  insanity.  Poor 
desperate  souls  !  They  act  too  rashly ;  they  should 
have  patience  ;  they  should  wait  a  year,  and  then 
perhaps  some  of  them  would  be  glad  and  gay,  and 
have  no  wish  to  go. 

"  But  if  after  waiting  a  year,"  his  eyes  rested  upon 
the  fluttering  crown  of  fresh  birch  leaves,  "  the  wish 
is  still  there,  deep  and  unchangeable,  then  not  in  pas- 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  271 

sion,  but  gently  and  calmly  —  world,  farewell !  One 
ought  to  be  willing  to  prove  the  sincerity  of  one's 
vocation  for  the  shades,  as  when  a  worldly  man  wishes 
to  become  a  monk.  All  the  old  fellows,  Plato  at 
the  head,  say  that  incurable  bodily  disease  is  reason 
enough  ;  and  if  not  only  the  body  is  worthless,  but 
the  life  helpless,  useless,  loveless,  while  the  heart 
rages  and  struggles,  and  never  yields,  never  learns 
what  they  call  resignation,  why,  then  —  then  —  ah, 
father,  even  you  will  smile  and  say  it  is  .well  done !  " 

The  sunshine  and  the  faint  breeze  played  with  the 
pale  green  leaves  of  the  young  birch. 

"  To  look  down  the  years,  and  see  but  this ! 
Deathly  loneliness  and  no  control  of  myself,  —  no 
more  than  an  hysterical  woman,  —  and  horror  of  a 
beautiful  face,  for  the  agony  of  remembrance  and 
cowardice  it  awakens.  Ah,  father,  father,  I  will 
wait,  but  thank  God  the  door  is  open.  How  quietly, 
how  thankfully  I  shall  pass  out  into  the  great  dark 
ness,  into  the  great  calm." 

The  birds  were  busy  in  the  shrubbery,  the  water 
plashed  its  lullaby,  the  warm,  soft,  sunny  life  in  the 
old  garden  breathed  upon  him  in  countless  subtle 
odors,  spoke  to  him  with  innumerable  voices. 

He  turned  from  his  friends  the  stoics,  to  statements 
of  the  modern  French  medical  school.  Sometimes  he 
forgot  himself  in  his  subject,  and  out  of  his  rambling 
thoughts,  his  curious  statistics,  his  medley  of  reflec 
tions,  grew  a  singular  restfulness. 

"  I  could  write  a  pamphlet  for  them  ;  I  have  studied 
this  thing ;  I  not  only  know  how  it  looks  from  with 
out  ;  I  know  how  it  feels  within,  and  whatever  re 
mains  I  shall  know  soon.  If  I  only  could  wait  better  ! 
It  is  folly  to  be  tragic  ;  but  let  them  who  teach  that 


272  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

the  spirit  sits  up  aloft  in  the  cranium  explain,  if  they 
can,  why  a  man  loses  his  courage  with  the  strength  of 
his  back.  Was  my  soul  in  my  spine  ?  " 

From  beneath  half-closed  lids,  he  stared  icily  into 
the  greenness.  The  breeze  blew  the  scolloped  edge  of 
his  awning  to  and  fro. 

"  How  it  all  goes  on  every  year,  —  year  after  year. 
How  all  the  color  and  freshness  come  and  go  in  the 
bushes  —  all  the  leaves  and  blossoms,  and  the  pink 
and  the  yellow,  and  the  fragrance.  Where  does  it 
come  from  ?  Where  does  it  go  ?  Where  shall  I  go  ? 
Shall  I  come  up  again  somewhere,  or  not?  At  all 
events,  I  shall  not  fear  to  take  my  chances.  The  vast 
Unknowable  God,  in  whom  I  believe  and  who  is  every 
where,  will  be  more  pitiful  than  the  jealous  Hebrew 
God  on  his  throne." 

Straight  before  him  amid  the  caressing  foliage  was 
the  gleaming  stem  of  the  birch.  Dietz  was  singing 
somewhere  overhead,  and  the  pounding  on  the  houses 
was  cheerfully  monotonous. 

"  I  wish  Dietz  would  come  in  and  stay.  I  don't 
know  what  it  is  that  I  like  in  him,  but  I  like  him  all 
through.  How  the  water  plashes !  With  my  eyes 
closed,  I  could  think  I  was  in  Rome  again,  in  the  old 
Corsini  garden,  where  the  water  falls  under  the  cy 
presses.  There  was  Mercedes,  seven  years  younger, 
laughing  and  enchanting.  And  I  a  boy  off  for  a  holi 
day.  Much  I  cared  then  for  cypresses  and  fountains 
and  views.  But  now  I  see  it  all  clearly,  and  I  am  the 
same  man  —  except  these  bonds  —  and  Mercedes  has 
grown  wise,  and  will  marry  the  French  Embassador. 
May  she  have  seven  daughters  as  wise  and  beautiful 
as  she,  and  may  they  all  marry  embassadors  and  make 
glad  the  heart  of  their  mother  ! 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  273 

"  Dietz  said  that  birch  was  like  a  girl  —  modest  yet 
beckoning.  The  big  fellow  has  a  tender  heart.  How 
straight  she  stood  the  other  day,  how  honest  and  inno 
cent  she  was,  and  how  like  a  tomb  the  room  seemed 
afterwards.  She  must  not  come  again.  I  am  too 
weak,  too  weary.  Let  me  be  quiet,  and  await  the  end. 
Why  suffer  ?  Why  excite  myself  ?  Surely  I  have 
suffered  enough.  I  suppose  if  my  senses  were  fine, 
I  should  see  all  those  acacia  leaves  growing  and  hear 
undreamed-of  sounds.  We  are  coarse  brutes,  after 
all.  Dietz  said  the  birch  was  beckoning." 

He  vaguely  saw  something  lovely  and  young  in  the 
thicket,  something  fair  and  virginal,  a  gracious  figure 
with  luminous  hazel  eyes,  noticeably  far  apart,  and  a 
look  in  them  of  truth  and  fearlessness.  The  vision 
did  not  torture  him  now.  He  was  too  weary.  He 
could  only  fix  his  languid  gaze  on  the  slender,  beckon 
ing  white  birch.  "  She  had  an  adorable  smile,"  he 
thought. 

At  noon  Bernhard  stood  by  him,  and  Lipps  came 
cautiously  from  the  other  direction,  making  grimaces 
expressive  of  satisfaction.  There  was  no  movement 
from  the  lame  man's  chair. 

Dietz  once  more  embraced  tree  and  bush  and  plant 
with  his  look  of  large  approval,  and  gazed  long  at  the 
sharp  profile  under  the  awning. 

"  I  don't  know  why  I  like  him,"  he  thought,  "  but 
when  he  turns  those  big  hollow  eyes  on  me,  I  could  take 
him  and  carry  him  in  my  arms  all  over  the  world.  I 
never  liked  anybody  so  well  —  except  Roschen,  — 
bless  her  !  —  and  that 's  different,  quite  different." 

He  smiled  to  think  how  very  different  loving 
Roschen  was  from  anything  that  ever  had  been  or 
ever  could  be.  and  strolled  back  to  his  work. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"  WHAT  was  it  like  ?  "  asked  the  countess. 

"  Oh,  it  was  wonderful !  Sixteen  horses  pawing 
and  snorting,  the  thud  of  their  hoofs  in  the  soft  tan, 
the  gleam  of  their  eyes,  the  breath  of  their  nostrils, 
their  plunges  and  bounds,  and  quivering  " 

"  Who  was  in  the  gallery  ?  "  interrupted  the  coun 
tess,  while  a  vague  uneasiness  and  jealousy  of  so 
much  youth  and  life  and  spirit  crept  into  her  cold 
eyes  and  her  voice.  "  The  Countess  Waldeiiberg,  of 
course,  since  she  offered  to  chaperon  you  with  Mer 
cedes.  She'd  better  keep  her  eyes  on  her  erratic 
daughter,  Mercedes  is  flirting  disgracefully  with 
Paalzow,  I  hear." 

"  She  was  lovely  this  morning,"  returned  Gabrielle 
heartily.  "  She  is  bewitching  on  a  horse." 

"  Contradict,  by  all  means.  If  I  say  she  is  dis 
graceful,  of  course  you  find  her  bewitching.  When 
I  ask  a  simple  and  natural  question,  instead  of  in 
forming  me  sensibly  who  was  there,  beside  the  riders, 
and  what  was  going  on  in  general,  you  go  off  into  a 
—  rhapsodic  hippique  !  No,  my  precious  little  sweet- 
urns,  no  more  sugar,  not  a  crumb.  Sugar  is  bad  for 
Mumsey's  angel !  Well  ?  "  sharply  to  Gabrielle. 

"I  did  not  notice  the  gallery  much,  Aunt  Adel- 
heid,"  Gabrielle  began  in  a  soberer  tone.  "  The  royal 
manege  is  so  large,  and  the  spectators  were  so  far  off 
and  in  shadow,  and  I  was  so  extremely  absorbed  by 
Sphinx.  He  was  the  most  excited  creature,"  laugh- 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  275 

ing  and  speaking  brightly  and  rapidly  again,  "so 
full  of  nonsense  and  antics.  He  knew  nothing  what 
ever  of  quadrille  figures,  nor  I  either  for  that  matter, 
and  we  found  turning  sharp  corners  and  wheeling 
on  our  own  axes  very  different  from  free  riding  on 
country-roads.  Then  while  I  tried  to  learn  the  evo 
lutions,  Sphinx  was  determined  to  learn  nothing,  and 
that  created  a  certain  confusion  in  our  manoeuvres. 
But  Herr  von  Raven  was  patient  and  Mercedes  help 
ful,  and  finally  Sphinx  and  I  became  of  one  mind,  as 
horse  and  rider  should  be." 

The  countess  frowned. 

"  I  have  no  patience  with  horsey  talk,  and  the  way 
you  allude  to  Sphinx  jars  upon  me.  How  can  you 
identify  yourself  with  a  horse,  and  say  4  we  '  did  this 
and  that  ?  Sweetheart !  Bebe  !  Did  he  want  a  crumb 
of  sugar?  Did  he  put  up  his  angel-paws  and  beg? 
Well,  he  should  have  it,  because  he  loved  his  Mumsey 
and  his  Mumsey  loved  her  Mousey !  " 

The  girl's  eyes  danced  with  merriment  as  the  coun 
tess  made  love  to  the  dog  on  her  knee,  whose  greedy 
gaze  was  fixed  on  her  lips,  from  which  she  conveyed 
to  him  fragments  of  a  lump  of  sugar  bitten  small  for 
his  refection. 

"  I  fear  that  my  affection  for  horses  is  incorrigi 
ble,"  Gabrielle  replied,  not  without  mischief.  "  I 
have  grown  up  with  '  our  colleague  the  horse,'  as  Pro 
fessor  Huxley  says ;  I  admire  him  and  believe  in  him. 
I  used  to  wish  that  I  could  find  Gulliver's  unpro 
nounceable  horse-kingdom,  and  live  there.  When  I 
was  first  reading  mythology,  I  used  to  imagine  a  cen 
taur  galloping  over  the  plain  and  running  away  with 
me." 

The  countess  replied  with  a  mocking  smile :  — 


276  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  I  know  centaurs  enough  who  would  run  away 
with  you  —  upon  conditions." 

"  Oh,"  returned  Gabrielle  innocently,  "  a  real  cen 
taur  never  stops  to  make  any.  He  snatches  his  prey 
and  is  gone  !  " 

"  Ours  are  more  circumspect,"  sneered  the  old  lady. 
"  They  make  minute  inquiries  as  to  the  prey's  dot.  " 
She  stopped  rubbing  Mousey's  stomach,  and  gave 
Gabrielle  a  long,  suspicious  glance. 

"  Then,  happily,  they  will  not  want  me,"  laughed 
the  girl.  .  "  But  Aunt  Adelheid,  Herr  von  Raven  is 
really  very  amiable  as  a  centaur.  I  like  him  much 
better  so,  than  in  his  abnormal,  dismounted  state.  By 
the  way,  I  have  discovered  why  he  and  his  set  speak 
so  curiously.  They  are  almost  always  riding,  and 
they  ride  German  trot  when  on  duty,  and  it  jolts 
more  of  course  than  when  one  rides  in  the  stirrups. 
Consequently  their  conversation  is  broken  —  -  stac 
cato.  They  have  the  habit  of  talking  between  jolts. 
'  Famous  '  (jolt)  i  proud  of  my  pupil '  (jolt)  '  upon 
my  word  '  (jolt)  4  to  the  left,  please  '  (jolt,  jolt)  '  like 
chain  in  Lancers  '  (jolt,  jolt,  jolt)  '  quite  simple ' 
(jolt)  '  bravo  '  (jolt)  '  light,  firm  hand  '  (jolt)  '  per 
fect  !  '  (jolt)  !  In  a  drawing-room  one  should  always 
imagine  the  motion  of  a  horse." 

"Don't  mimic,  Gabrielle.  It  is  bad  taste,  and 
silly.  Should-ums  did-ums  want  his  crumb  of  sugar  ? 
There !  " 

"  Some  of  the  officers'  wives  ride  very  well,  but 
Mercedes  is  most  charming.  She  leads  with  Herr  von 
Paalzow." 

"  While  her  old  marquis  is  constructing  himself 
for  the  day !  Was  the  Frau  Major  there  ?  " 

"  I  merely  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  at  the  door." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  277 

"  With  the  Countess  Waldenberg?  " 

"  I  really  did  not  notice." 

"  But  Gabrielle,  you  are  too  tedious  !  " 

"  I  will  observe  the  whole  row  of  chaperons  to-mor 
row,"  the  young  girl  rejoined  conciliatingly.  "  I  was 
so  occupied  with  Sphinx,  Aunt  Adelheid.  He  did 
not  know  whether  he  -wished  to  stand  on  his  ear  or 
his  tail !  " 
'  "  A  very  refined  description !  " 

"  I  mean  that  he  was  nervous,  and  could  not  un 
derstand  what  was  required  of  him." 

"Horses  are  stupid  animals  —  are  they  not,  Mou 
sey?  Great  blundering  stupids  !  Look  at  Mousey 's 
frontal  development,"  and  she  parted  his  yellow  locks 
as  one  pushes  back  the  curls  from  the  forehead  of  a 
loved  child.  "  Look  at  that !  Did  you  ever  see  any 
thing  like  it  ?  Did  a  horse  ever  have  that  intellect  ?  " 
She  gazed  fondly  into  the  diabolical  eyes. 

"No,  —  never!"  Gabrielle  rejoined  emphatically. 
"  Mousey  is  the  cleverest  thing  in  this  world.  I  shall 
always  concede  that." 

Either  the  dog  found  something  objectionable  in 
her  remark,  or  resented  having  his  forehead  exposed 
and  discussed,  for  he  snapped  at  the  countess's  hands, 
and  barked  viciously  at  Gabrielle. 

u  Wonderful  animal,"  exclaimed  the  countess.  "  His 
sensitiveness  is  a  perpetual  surprise."  Mousey's  rage 
was  subsiding  in  a  series  of  sniffs  and  grunts.  "  Poor 
little  sorrowing  heart !  He  never  allows  a  stranger  to 
touch  his  head,  and  it  grieved  him  to  have  us  even 
allude  to  it  so  pointedly.  It  was  inconsiderate  on  my 
part.  His  reserve  is  so  fastidious.  He  is  so  aristo 
cratic." 

The  lauded  object   gave   a   long  and   comfortable 


278  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

snore.  He  was  not  asleep,  but  merely  taking  his  ease 
and  expressing  his  feelings  with  characteristic  dis 
regard  for  his  inferiors. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Herr  von  Paalzow  ?  "  began 
the  countess  abruptly. 

"  Oh,  he  is  charming." 

"  That  is  unequivocal,  at  least !  " 

"  But  you  asked  me." 

"  Don't  be  captious,  Gabrielle.  A  well-bred  girl 
when  asked  her  opinion  of  a  man  usually  expresses 
herself  with  some  reserve.  She  may  say  he  seems 
agreeable,  or  has  distinction  of  manner.  She  does  not 
start  and  open  her  eyes  and  smile  and  pronounce  him 
4  charming  '  with  that  amount  of  emphasis.'' 

Gabrielle  colored  vividly.  She  was  apt  to  lose 
patience  quickly  when  her  conduct  toward  men  became 
the  subject  of  the  countess's  criticism. 

"  Herr  von  Paalzow  seems  to  me  agreeable  and  dis 
tinguished,  since  you  prefer  those  expressions,  and  — 
if  I  am  allowed  to  observe  his  personal  appearance  — 
I  think  him  handsome.     He  is  very  brave,  they  tell  me, 
which  is  more  important." 

"  He  seems  to  have  made  an  impression  on  you,  my 
dear." 

"  Why,  yes,  a  very  good  one.  There  is  something 
happy  and  sunny  in  his  face,  and  he  seems  kind.  I 
noticed  his  manner  to  his  groom." 

"  It  strikes  me  that  you  have  noticed  him  closely." 

"  I  have.  When  I  saw  him  with  Mercedes,  I 
wished  with  all  my  heart  that  she  was  going  to  marry 
him  instead  of  the  marquis." 

"  Tut,  tut!"  exclaimed  the  countess  in  her  bantering 
tone,  Gabrielle's  somewhat  irritated  manner  moving 
her  pleasurably  ;  "  the  Waldenbergs  would  not  thank 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  279 

you  for  your  match-making  schemes.  Von  Paalzow 
has  no  fortune.  They  would  be  eager  enough  to  catch 
him  for  Elsa,  and  with  old  Valois  secured,  they  could 
not  do  better,  for  Paalzow  is  a  rising  man.  But  it  is 
a  pity  that  Mercedes  will  not  let  him  alone.  If  she  is 
not  less  reckless,  she  will  not  only  ruin  silly  Elsa's 
hopes,  but  her  own  with  the  marquis.  His  old  eyes 
are,  I  admit,  weak  and  watery  ;  still  some  things  are 
plain  enough  for  even  a  man  in  his  dotage  to  see." 

Such  remarks  always  made  Gabrielle  restive. 
"  Catching  Paalzow  "  —  "  securing  Valois,"  -  —  Merce 
des  deceiving  an  old  man  who  trusted  her,  —  laughing, 
careless  Elsa  scheming  meanly  for  a  husband,  —  it  was 
all  untrue,  she  knew  that,  but  it  was  hard  always  to 
breathe  mephitic  air  !  She  had  been  happy  that  morn 
ing,  —  her  natural,  unrepressed  self,  fearless  and  free, 
prone  to  laughter,  to  sympathy.  When  those  sixteen 
splendid  animals  came  tearing  down  the  length  of 
the  manege,  neck  to  neck,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  then 
halted  as  still  as  the  bronze  horses  at  Venice,  while  the 
bugles  blew  a  long  shrill  blast,  she  no  longer  called 
the  tournament  a  circus,  she  forgot  her  prejudices,  and 
was  thrilled  with  joyous  excitement.  It  was  a  taste  of 
her  old  innocent  freedom  ;  it  was  like  her  native  atmos 
phere,  she  drew  it  in  with  full  glad  breaths,  and  was 
radiant  when  she  rejoined  the  countess  in  the  villa. 
Now  she  sat  silent  and  ill  at  ease. 

"  How  is  Herr  von  Paalzow  with  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  talked  with  him  very  little,"  she  returned 
listlessly.  "  He  is  easy  to  talk  with.  He  likes  many 
things  that  I  like.  -He  cares  for  books.  I  never  like 
to  talk  with  any  one  very  long  who  does  not  like 
books." 

"  Nonsense  !     How  pedantic !  " 


280  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

44  Oil,  I  do  not  mean  a  person  who  talks  of  books 
exclusively.  He  need  not  say  a  word  of  them.  But 
one  knows  a  book-lover  intuitively.  Books  are  such 
a  comfort  and  refuge  !  " 

"Thank  you  for  your  information.  I  believe  I 
learned  all  that  at  the  age  of  ten,  in  one  of  Lafontaine's 
fables.  Really,  how  can  you  air  such  platitudes  ?  " 

44  Because,"  persisted  Gabrielle,  u  when  I  talk  long 
with  Herr  von  Raven,  for  instance,  I  have  a  sensation 
that  he  lives  in  one  world  and  I  in  another,  and  there 
is  no  connection  between  the  two,  except  a  suspen 
sion-bridge,  which  we  can  cross  only  on  horses." 

44  Hm  !  "  said  the  countess. 

"  I  think  he  reads  nothing  but  the  sporting  news. 
He  is  so  good-naturedly  condescending  to  authors. 
They  are  not  in  the  army,  poor  things  !  "  She  laughed 
a  little. 

The  old  lady,  who  bestowed  her  fluttering,  uneasy 
kind  of  attention  upon  her  Figaro,  while  adoring- 
Mousey  on  her  knee,  and  who  had  not  read  an  entire 
book  in  years,  replied  sharply  :  — 

44  There  is  n't  a  girl  in  town  who  would  not  be  glad 
to  marry  him.  He  is  a  soldier  and  a  gentleman. 
Would  you  have  him  a  book-worm  to  boot  ?  " 

44 1  don't  mean  that  one  could  n't  like  him,  or  that 
he  may  not  be  clever  —  in  ways  that  don't  appear." 

The  countess  laughed  in  spite  of  herself. 

44  He  would  thank  you  for  that  speech." 

44 1  do  seem  to  make  it  worse  instead  of  better," 
Gabrielle  returned  smiling.  "  But  I  meant  nothing 
unkind.  When  we  talk  of  horses,  our  conversation 
goes  galloping  along  cheerfully,  and  it  may  be  my  own 
fault  that  we  stumble  and  halt  when  we  try  other 
themes." 


THE    OPEN   DOOR.  281 

"  You  frighten  him,  no  doubt,  with  your  superior 
airs." 

"  Oh,  he  is  not  at  all  shy,  and  certainly  does  not 
suspect  his  limitations.  We  are  friendly  enough  in  a 
superficial  way." 

"  Good  heavens,  Gabrielle,  you  set  my  nerves  on 
edge  with  your  phrases  !  Superficial.  What  more  do 
you  expect  ?  Must  one  swear  eternal  friendship  with 
everybody  one  meets  in  society  ?  And  your  limita 
tions  ?  What  kind  of  a  word  is  that  for  a  girl  to  use  ? 
Limitations  —  limitations  ?  Really,  it  is  an  exasper 
ating  word.  An  odious  word.  Limitations,  indeed !  " 

She  rose  with  an  offended  air  and  walked  slowly  and 
heavily  from  the  room.  Gabrielle  followed,  resolving 
for  the  thousandth  time  never  to  permit  herself  to 
make  a  natural  remark,  since  it  was  sure  to  displease. 
On  the  landing  the  countess  stopped,  panting  audi 
bly.  She  looked  singularly  pale,  whether  from  fatigue 
or  anger  Gabrielle  did  not  presume  to  judge,  but 
there  was  an  unhealthy  whiteness  in  the  large  face, 
and  the  thin  lips  were  parted,  drawing  short  and  pain 
ful  breaths. 

"  Let  me  give  you  my  arm,  Aunt  Adelheid.  At 
least  let  me  take  Mousey.  Why  should  you  carry  the 
lazy  fellow  up-stairs  ?  " 

But  the  dog,  objecting  to  be  called  a  lazy  fellow,  re 
fused  to  come  to  her,  slipped  down,  made  an  evil  face, 
and  walked  up  the  stairs  on  his  own  indignant  paws. 

"  Give  me  some  Chartreuse,"  gasped  the  countess, 
pointing  to  the  liqueur-stand  when  they  reached  her 
room. 

"It  is  so  sweet  and  heavy  !  Will  it  not  make  you 
worse  ?  "  Gabrielle  asked  kindly. 

But  the  countess  frowned  and  insisted.     She  sipped 


282  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

it,  nibbling  a  sweet  biscuit,  and  giving  crumbs  to 
Mousey  stationed  on  the  table  near  the  refreshments, 
leaned  her  white  cheek  against  the  chair-back,  breath 
ing  with  much  exertion.  Gabrielle  watched  her,  silent 
and  sorry. 

The  countess  lighted  a  cigarette,  and  after  some 
whiffs,  murmured  with  bitterness  :  — 

"  It  will  take  me  off  some  time  !  " 

"  Can  nothing  be  done  ?  "  the  young  girl  asked  com 
passionately. 

The  countess  waited  a  few  moments  until  her  respi 
ration  was  more  natural,  before  replying  :  — 

"  Oh,  I  have  tried  one  doctor  after  another.  They 
all  tell  the  same  story.  Exercise  is  their  war-cry  now 
adays.  No  one  has  ever  understood  me  except  Pres- 
signy." 

"  But  if  they  all  agree  ?  "  suggested  Gabrielle  gently. 

"  Pressigny  never  allowed  me  to  exercise.  He  never 
allowed  me  to  fast.  Once  I  consulted  Hugo's  doctor. 
I  felt  weak.  I  wanted  a  tonic.  He  felt  my  pulse,  he 
listened  to  my  breathing,  knocked  about  my  chest  with 
a  business-like  rapidity  that  was  positively  brutal,  —  I 
might  have  been  a  beer-cask  for  all  the  deference  he 
showed  !  —  and  then  he  had  the  impertinence  to  say : 
4  My  dear  madam,  I  congratulate  you  upon  your 
strength  and  constitution.  You  need  no  tonic,  only 
less  food  and  more  exercise.  I  will  prescribe  your 
diet.  If  you  follow  it  closely,  you  will  soon  be  in  en 
viable  health.  There  is  some  fat  about  the  heart,  and 
if  you  continue  to  live  unwisely,  it  may  make  trouble 
for  you.'  What  kind  of  a  tirade  was  that !  " 

"  But  was  it  not  true  ?  " 

"  Don't  ask  silly  questions,  and  don't  interrupt," 
returned  the  countess,  her  breathing  still  laborious. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  283 

"  4  Doctor,'  said  I,  4 1  cannot  diet.'  He  shrugged  his 
shoulders.  4  That  is  as  you  please,'  he  answered.  '  I 
will  send  you  my  instructions.  I  shall  not  starve  you 
or  train  you  for  athletic  sports.  I  shall  merely  indi 
cate  a  rational  mode  of  life  for  a  woman  of  your  years 
and  habit.  Good-morning,  madam,'  and  he  whisked 
out  of  my  room.  He  has  no  more  delicacy,  no  more 
tact,  no  more  sympathy,  no  more  feeling  than  that 
poker !  " 

"  Perhaps  you  'd  better  not  talk,  Aunt  Adelheid." 

"  I  prefer  to  talk !  "  said  the  old  lady  sternly.  "  He 
sent  his  instructions.  When  I  saw  that  he  expected 
me  to  rise  at  eight  and  walk  fifteen  minutes  up  the 
Heine  Strasse,  I  threw  his  precious  rules  into  the  fire. 
'  No  liqueurs,'  I  saw  too.  Now  I  positively  require 
liqueur.  Dr.  Pressigny  told  me  that  my  over-sensi 
tiveness  demanded  certain  aromatic  stimulants.  Im 
agine  the  blunderer  telling  me  to  walk  out  at  eight 
like  a  market-woman !  Is  that  the  way  to  prescribe 
for  a  lady  ?  The  coarseness  of  the  idea  is  revolting. 
I  cannot  walk.  I  never  could.  I  am  not  accustomed 
to  it.  At  my  age  one  should  never  change  one  's  mode 
of  life.  Fill  my  glass,  Gabrielle." 

"  I  cannot  bear  to  give  you  any  more,"  Gabrielle 
exclaimed.  "  I  am  sure  that  it  is  bad  for  you.  I 
will  walk  with  you  gladly  every  morning." 

"  Thank  you  ;  but  I  shall  never  promenade  myself 
at  milk-maid's  hours.  I  am  not  bucolic  in  my  tenden 
cies.  Dr.  Pressigny  assured  me  that  long  repose  was 
indispensable  to  my  sensitive  organization." 

"  Then  perhaps  later  in  the  day  ?  " 

"  Don't  be  obstinate,  Gabrielle.  No  one  now  has 
any  comprehension  of  my  case.  The  Frau  Major  is 
not  without  insight,  but  Hugo  is  terribly  unsympa- 


284  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

thetic.  I  had  hoped,"  she  said  with  one  of  her  sur 
prising  changes  of  tone,  "  to  find  sympathy  and  affec 
tion  in  you." 

Gabrielle  felt  uncomfortable  and  was  silent. 

Suddenly  the  countess  rose,  came  toward  her,  em 
braced  and  kissed  her  effusively. 

"  There,  I  will  trust  you  !  I  admit  I  have  been  sus 
picious." 

Gabrielle  retained  a  stiff  and  unresponsive  attitude. 
If  for  inscrutable  reasons  the  countess  chose  to 
throw  her  arms  about  her  in  an  eccentric  manner, 
Gabrielle  felt  no  impulse  to  fall  weeping  upon  the 
old  lady's  shoulder. 

"  Let  us  be  friends,"  cried  the  incomprehensible  old 
woman.  fck  Let  us  be  all  in  all  to  each  other.  I  have 
longed  all  my  life  for  a  friend.  It  is  my  ideal !  " 
There  were  tears  in  her  eyes  and  voice. 

Mousey  sat  on  the  table  and  regarded  the  scene 
with  a  knowing  grin.  "*  I  have  seen  this  sort  of  thing 
before,"  he  reflected,  munching  a  crumb  of  biscuit. 
wt  There  is  nothing  new  under  the  sun." 

"  I  am  sorry,"  stammered  Gabrielle,  embarrassed, 
"but"  — 

"  I  have  every  element  necessary  to  an  ideal  friend 
ship,"  and  a  sentimental  smile  played  over  the  hard 
old  face  ;  "  I  have  hesitated.  I  have  doubted  you,  I 
confess.  I  have  feared  that  you  were  insincere." 

"  If  not  always  saying  everything  that  one  thinks 
is  insincerity,"  Gabrielle  broke  out  desperately,  "  then 
I  am  insincere." 

"  See,  you  admit  it  yourself !  "  exclaimed  the  coun 
tess  triumphantly.  u  Never  mind.  I  can  be  generous." 

"  I  can  only  be  what  I  have  been,  thus  far,"  began 
the  young  girl,  "  and  "  — 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  285 

"  Now  listen  to  me,  Gabrielle.  I  have  a  great 
secret  to  tell  you.  I  have  put  your  name  down  in  my 
will." 

Mousey  buried  his  nose  in  his  paws  and  shook 
with  silent  laughter. 

"  But  Aunt  Adelheid,"  protested  Gabrielle  with  a 
start,  "  you  —  you  really  make  me  feel  very  uncom 
fortable  !" 

"  You  are  surprised  ?  My  dear,  your  books  are 
all  very  well.  Who  prizes  them  more  than  I  ?  My 
husband's  library  consisted  of  six  thousand  volumes. 
He  had  read  simply  everything.  Hugo  is  a  great 
reader.  But  books  will  not  feed  and  clothe  you  and 
give  you  a  place  in  society.  Gabrielle,  be  guided  by 
me.  As  my  adopted  child,  you  will  have  them  all 
at  your  feet.  Mark  my  words,  you  have  simply  to 
choose.  Von  Raven,  von  Haller,  von  Paalzow,  whom 
you  will.  With  me  behind  you,  you  command  the  sit 
uation." 

Gabrielle  stared  at  her   in  haughty  astonishment. 

"  I  am  not  adoptable,"  she  said  curtly.  "  I  hap 
pen  to  belong  to  my  father." 

The  countess  persisted  in  her  good  humor. 

"  Never  mind  what  we  call  it,"  she  replied  with  a 
little  chuckle. 

"  Do  I  understand  you  to  propose  to  me  to  buy  a 
husband  with  your  money  ?  " 

"  My  dear,  with  the  Kronfels  fortune,  I  could  buy 
you  a  prince.  Who  knows  ?  Perhaps  a  king,"  laughed 
the  countess.  "  There  are  several  impecunious  small 
majesties  making  themselves  conspicuous  in  Europe 
just  now." 

Gabrielle  rose. 

"  I  decline  everything,"  she  began  rapidly,  with  an 


286  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

abrupt  gesture,  —  palms  outward  as  if  pushing  away 
some  obnoxious  thing.  "  I  do  not  wish  to  be  rude  or 
unkind.  But  I  decline.  I  cannot  promise  to  be  dif 
ferent  to  you  from  what  I  am  this  moment.  I  will 
be  as  companionable  as  you  will  let  me  be.  I  will  try 
to  please  you,  but  I  cannot  be  your  ideal  friend,  and 
I  will  not  have  my  name  in  your  will."  Her  voice 
rang  out  scornfully  as  she  concluded  :  "  It  is  a  poor 
compliment  to  any  man,  or  to  me,  to  imply  that  the 
Kronfels  fortune  could  influence  either  of  us." 

Mousey  watched  her  with  closest  attention.  "  This 
is  new,"  he  admitted  gravely. 

Again  the  countess  laughed,  well-pleased. 

"  I  shall  soon  call  you  Tornado  instead  of  Moon 
beam.  Seriously,  Gabrielle,  you  surely  do  not  expect 
me  to  believe  that  you,  a  poor  girl,  have  never  pri 
vately  speculated  upon  the  possibility  of  inheriting 
something  from  me  ?  Nonsense.  There  never  was  a 
companion  or  relative  in  this  house  who  had  not  that 
thought  first  and  last.  Some  conceal  it  better  than 
others,  that  is  all  the  difference.  Sly  cats  they  were, 
most  of  them  !  " 

"  You  insult  me,"  the  young  girl  said  coldly. 

"Tut,  tut !  don't  be  tragic." 

Gabrielle  looked  steadily  at  her,  and  replied :  — 

"  There  have  been  wild  and  reckless  and  hot- 
blooded  men  in  my  race,  but  there  never  was  a 
Dohna,  man  or  woman,  so  despicable  as  to  think  the 
thoughts  you  have  attributed  to  me." 

The  countess  moved  about  uneasily. 

"  You  are  so  extreme,  Gabrielle,  so  theatrical." 

"  I  do  not  bear  things  meekly  that  reflect  upon  my 
honor." 

"  There  you  go  again  !  "  retorted  the  countess  with 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  287 

a  shrug.  "  No  one  has  reflected  upon  your  honor,  as 
you  call  it.  Silly  child  !  Consider.  I  shall  die  some 
day.  It  is  not  an  agreeable  thought ;  I  entertain  it  as 
little  as  possible.  I  don't  intend  to  go  very  soon,  I 
promise  you.  Give  me  a  glass  of  Chartreuse.  You 
have  agitated  me.  Very  good,  if  you  do  not  wish  to 
pour  it,  I  will  pour  it  myself.  It  is  evident  that  I 
must  leave  my  fortune  to  somebody.  Hugo  does  not 
need  it.  I  shall  probably  outlive  him,  too,"  she  added 
with  a  certain  eagerness.  "  I  have  been  obliged  to 
alter  my  will  frequently.  I  have  been  deceived  in 
people.  There  is  something  wanting  in  everybody," 
she  muttered  with  a  singular  expression  of  suspicion 
and  reluctance,  as  if  she  were  tempted  to  suddenly 
withdraw  her  proposal ;  "  but  no,  I  have  decided ! 
You  are  a  handsome  girl,  Gabrielle,  and  a  social  suc 
cess.  You  be  guided  by  me.  I  did  not  like  to  say 
this.  One  does  not  enjoy  regarding  one's  shroud. 
Still,  it  is  best  to  have  the  matter  settled.  After  all, 
as  the  Frau  Major  says,  I  may  live  twenty  years." 

44  If  you  have  the  habit  of  inserting  names  in  your 
will  and  then  removing  them,  I  need  not  distress  my 
self,  for  you  will  surely  remove  mine." 

44  We  shall  see,"  returned  the  countess  affably.  44  But 
I  trust  you  will  give  me  no  occasion.  Now  Gabrielle, 
which  shall  it  be?  The  Frau  Major  is  in  favor  of 
von  Raven  or  von  Haller,  she  knows  the  families  so 
well" 

44  The  Frau  Major  ?  " 

44  Yes ;  she  is  going  to  get  up  some  theatricals  to 
give  you  an  opportunity  to  study  Herr  von  Paalzow, 
nevertheless." 

44  The  Frau  Major?     Frau  von  Funnel  ?  " 

44  Yes,  of  course,"  the  countess  answered  with  some 


288  THE  OPEN  DOOR. 

impatience.  "  Why  you  make  that  horror-struck  face 
is  beyond  my  comprehension." 

"You  have  discussed  this  matrimonial  plan  with 
her  ?  She  approves  ?  She  is  planning  theatricals  and 
counting  upon  me  ?  "  demanded  Gabrielle. 

"  I  confess  I  was  not  to  tell  you.  It  was  to  be  a 
surprise.  The  Frau  Major  swore  me  to  secrecy.  But 
it  slipped  out  unawares.  After  all,  it  is  no  crime. 
Oh,  yes,  we  planned  several  pleasant  things.  She  is 
ingenious.  She  has  time  to  be." 

"  When  was  it  ?  " 

"  That  we  spoke  of  the  theatricals  ?  Oh,  her  last 
reception-day  —  last  Thursday.  She  said  that  she  had 
been  having  a  chat  with  you." 

"  It  was  immediately  after  the  chat  with  me  that 
she  planned  all  these  pleasant  things  for  me,  —  the 
Frau  Major  herself  ?  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  the  countess  said  pettishly.  "  Surely 
there  is  nothing  extraordinary  in  that  ?  She  is  devoted 
to  me.  She  is  naturally  interested  in  you  for  my 
sake.  After  the  theatricals  comes  a  picnic.  After 
the  picnic,  I  forget  what.  All  for  charity,  too.  She 
is  untiring.  I  should  like  to  be  as  active  as  she," 
she  added  with  a  trace  of  jealousy,  "  if  I  had  her 
strength  and  leisure." 

Gabrielle  sat  down  and  shaded  her  eyes  with  her 
hand.  Mousey  employed  himself  in  licking  her 
wrist,  upon  which  he  detected  traces  of  Eau  de 
Cologne. 

"  She  gave  me  her  promise,"  thought  the  young 
girl.  "  She  looked  me  in  the  eye,  and  spoke  deliber 
ately  and  gently.  She  went  from  my  presence  and 
broke  her  word.  There  was  no  temptation.  There 
is  no  excuse.  I  will  never  trust  her  again.  It  does 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  289 

not  matter  whether  the  promise  related  to  kingdoms 
or  human  lives  or  trifles.  A  lie  to  the  friend  who 
trusts  you  is  treachery.  Ah,  whom  shall  I  believe 
if  she  is  false  ?  "  Suddenly  she  gave  the  countess  a 
searching  look.  '^  Aunt  Adelheid  never  tells  a  straight 
story.  She  does  not  see  anything  as  anybody  else 
does.  Perhaps  the  Frau  Major  knows  nothing  of  all 
this.  Could  that  wise,  calm,  good  woman  stoop  so 
low?  It  is  impossible." 

But  the  doubt  had  taken  root. 

"  I  do  not  wonder  that  you  are  excited,  Gabrielle," 
observed  the  countess  complacently.  "  Any  girl  would 
be.  We  shall  have  a  fine  comedy  playing  on  our 
private  stage.  It  will  amuse  me.  I  give  you  your 
choice,  my  dear.  No  one  can  call  me  exacting.  Herr 
von  Raven  would  be  easiest  to  manage.  Herr  von 
Haller  has  a  bit  of  a  temper  sometimes.  This  I 
can  assure  you,  von  Paalzow  will  be  apt  to  be  master 
in  his  own  house.  But  all  that  is  your  affair.  As  to 
money,  one  may  have  a  trifle  more  than  another,  but 
in  our  circumstances  we  can  happily  ignore  that  con 
sideration." 

Amused  by  her  projected  puppet-show,  possessed 
by  her  caprice  of  the  moment,  she  chatted  on  smil 
ingly,  and  failed  to  'interpret  the  uncompromising  lan 
guage  of  the  young  indignant  eyes  opposite  her. 

"  Take  von  Paalzow,  my  dear  !  "  she  said  genially. 
"  He  is  better  suited  to  you.  I  admit  that  the  others 
are  more  boyish.  But  von  Paalzow  is  a  cavalier,  a 
man  of  distinction.  Then  Mercedes" — she  gave  a 
hard  little  laugh  —  "  would  be  so  astonished.  She  is 
accustomed  to  reign  supreme.  It  would  be  amusing 
to  see  her  routed  by  some  one  belonging  to  me." 

"  Don't,  Mousey !  "  said  Gabrielle,  impatiently  push- 


290  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

ing  the  lapping,  sniffing  dog  away.  "  I  cannot  bear 
it!" 

"How  can  you  be  so  harsh  to  my  angel?  Come 
here,  lovey  !  "  Mousey  did  not  budge,  but  continued 
to  sniff  about  Gabrielle's  hands,  until  she  put  them  be 
hind  her  for  safe-keeping.  He  had  either  inherited 
or  acquired  a  pronounced  taste  for  alcoholic  stimu 
lants.  On  one  occasion,  after  partaking  of  whipped 
cream  strongly  flavored  with  arac,  he  had  even  been 
known  to  temporarily  lose  that  quality  of  intellectual 
clearness  which  was  his  distinction,  to  ignore  the  laws 
of  gravitation,  and  to  evince  but  a  blurred  conscious 
ness  of  the  position  of  table-legs  and  other  familiar 
objects.  Over  this  frailty  the  countess  drew  a  veil  of 
tender  reserve. 

"  In  any  event,"  continued  the  countess  oracularly, 
"  it  would  be  well  to  be  a  little  distant  to  Mercedes 
just  now.  She  is  compromising  herself  seriously.  She 
is  not  yet  madame  la  marquise.  I  have  heard  it 
even  hinted  that  her  conduct  is  not  approved  by  Her 
Majesty.  Mercedes  can  permit  herself  considerable 
liberty,  but  she  goes  beyond  all  bounds.  She  flings 
prudence  to  the  winds." 

"  What  has  poor  Mercedes  done  now  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  dear !  Don't  expect'  me  to  relate  all  the 
extravagances  of  her  coquetry.  She  came  riding  gayly 
home  the  other  night  at  twelve  o'clock  with  von  Paal- 
zow.  They  had  lost  the  path.  They  had  lost  their 
groom.  They  had  lost  their  heads.  Heaven  alone 
knows  what  else  they  had  lost." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  whatever  that  they  lost  the  path," 
Gabrielle  said  hotly. 

"  Oh,  dear,  yes,  of  course  !  " 

"  Who  told  you  it?" 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  291 

"  The  Frau  Major  was  deploring  it.  She  loves  and 
admires  Mercedes.  She  has  always  endeavored  to  help 
her.  But  Mercedes  is  imperious  and  wilful.  The 
Frau  Major  is  grieved  and  anxious  about  her.  If  the 
marquis  is  willing  to  marry  her  still,  why  that  alters 
the  matter.  Then  of  course  no  one  has  anything  to 
say." 

"  Ah !  I  who  like  Mercedes  must  not  go  to  see  her 
because  people  who  like  neither  her  nor  me  prefer  that 
I  should  not?  Is  that  it?" 

"  Society  charges  her  with  many  imprudences,  my 
child,"  the  countess  replied  with  a  pious  air. 

"  I  must  not  associate  with  Mercedes  von  Walden- 
berg  because  she  and  Lieutenant  von  Paalzow  lost 
their  way  in  the  woods,"  persisted  Gabrielle,  "  but  if 
that  old  dandy  marquis  marries  her,  then  she  is  not 
wicked,  and  I  may  go  to  see  her  again?  " 

"  Why,"  said  the  old  lady,  with  smiling  conviction, 
"  one  cannot  very  well  turn  the  cold  shoulder  upon  the 
wife  of  the  French  Embassador,  can  one  ?  " 

Gabrielle  broke  into  a  nervous  laugh. 

"It  is  of  no  use,"  she  said  in  her  rapid  way.  "I 
know  that  before  I  begin.  But  one  must  say  something 
—  one  must!"  She  paused,  struggling  for  control. 
The  countess's  confession  of  faith,  her  social  tactics, 
were  so  repugnant,  so  horrible  to  Gabrielle  that  she 
felt  outraged  and  helpless.  "  About  Mercedes.  You 
know  that  I  like  her.  I  do  not  think  any  one  under 
stands  her.  I  am  very  sure  that  I  do  not.  I  only 
wish  that  I  had  known  her  longer  and  better,  for  then 
I  could  be  of  some  use  to  her  now.  I  do  not  believe 
one  word  they  say  against  her  !  I  do  not  know  what 
it  is  all  about.  It  is  ridiculous,  what  they  say  !  I  do 
not  believe  that  she  has  done  wrong  in  the  slightest. 


292  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

But  if  she  has,  it  is  because  she  is  unhappy  and  des 
perate,  and  then  more  than  ever  she  needs  her  friends. 
What  is  friendship  ? "  demanded  the  scornful  young 
voice.  "  Is  it  something  that  simpers  and  flatters 
when  all  is  well,  and  sneaks  away  when  all  is  ill  ?  Is 
it  a  coward,  a  poltroon  ?  " 

"  I  should  say,"  chuckled  the  old  lady  with  a  world 
ly-wise  smile,  and  highly  entertained  by  Gabrielle's  ex 
citement,  "  I  should  say  that  it  was  usually  about  that. 
Precious  little  sweetheart,  he  was  the  stanchest  little 
friend  !  He  could  teach  them  all,  yes,  so  he  could  !  " 
Mousey  blinked  at  her  ironically,  and  accepted  a  crumb 
of  sweet  biscuit,  then  desiring  to  watch  Gabrielle, 
snapped  at  the  hand  that  fed  him. 

"  If  you  love  any  one,"  Gabrielle  went  on  impetu 
ously,  "  you  love  him  still,  though  he  should  become  a 
thief  or  a  murderer.  You  go  to  him  and  suffer  with 
him.  If  you  hold  up  your  skirts  for  fear  of  contam 
ination,  your  cowardice  is  stronger  than  your  affec 
tion.  If  it  is  true  in  great  things,  it  is  true  in  small. 
Mercedes  is  lovely  and  good.  I  am  attached  to  her. 
She  has  done  nothing  wrong.  But  if  she  had,  a  mis 
take  is  not  a  contagious  disease,  so  far  as  I  know.  I 
shall  make  mistakes  enough  in  my  own  life,  no  doubt. 
But  it  is  not  probable  that  I  should  catch  Mercedes' 
particular  kind  of  mistake,  simply  from  putting  my 
arms  around  her  when  she  is  unhappy." 

The  countess  regarded  her  with  a  prolonged  and 
quizzical  smile. 

"  Mousey,  my  seraph,  listen  to  her  !  Really,  Gabri 
elle,  if  these  are  your  sentiments,  we  have  removed  you 
not  an  instant  too  soon  from  your  Dohna." 

"  My  Dohna !  "  repeated  the  young  girl  with  a  sigh. 
"  I  never  considered  such  things  there.  Perhaps  that 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  293 

is  why  I  lose  my  bearings  here.  I  frequently  change 
my  mind,  I  know.  But  I  never  shall  in  this.  At 
Dohna,  or  anywhere  else,  I  hope  I  may  never  be 
come  a  coward  and  slink  away  from  a  friend  in  mis 
fortune." 

"  But  misfortune  which  she  has  prepared  for  herself 
and  deserves  ?  " 

u  Is  it  not  misfortune  all  the  same,  however  it  came  ? 
What  if  it  were  sin,  disgrace  ?  Is  it  not  all  the  bit 
terer  if  one  must  blame  one's  self?  Then,  exactly 
then,  one  needs  a  friend's  love.  Aunt  Aclelheid,  I 
cannot  take  your  advice.  I  must  act  freely  toward 
Mercedes.  I  answer  unhesitatingly  for  my  father's 
approval." 

"  Hear  her,  my  treasure !  "  exclaimed  the  countess 
in  French.  "  Art  thou  not  content  to  witness  this  lit 
tle  theatre  under  thy  own  adorable  nose  ?  Well,  well, 
as  you  like,  Gabrielle.  After  all,  I  am  your  back 
ground.  Then  Mercedes  is  Countess  of  Waldenberg. 
One  can't  send  her  to  Coventry  as  if  she  were  a  no 
body.  Besides,  if  you  go  there  you  will  certainly 
meet  von  Paalzow.  But  perhaps  you  had  thought  of 
that  yourself  ?  "  she  added  slyly. 

"  Oh,"  groaned  Gabrielle  desperately,  "  it  is  of  no 
use.  I  said  it  was  of  no  use." 

"He  is  with  her  constantly.  Our  lady  mamma  is 
anxious,  but  smiles  and  pretends  that  he  comes  to  see 
Elsa.  How  long  the  marquis  will  believe  her,  we  are 
all  asking  ourselves.  For  let  the  marquis  retire,  and 
down  falls  our  fine  castle,  since  it  is  evident  that 
von  Paalzow  is  only  flirting." 

"  How  do  they  know  that  ? "  the  girl  demanded 
fiercely.  "  Has  society  an  All  Seeing  Eye  ?  Can  it 
penetrate  the  heart  and  read  motives  ?  " 


294  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Be  careful,  Gabrielle.  I  never  permit  in  my  pre 
sence  anything  that  borders  upon  irreverence." 

"  Aunt  Adelheid,  if  I  should  talk  a  year  "  — 

"  Pray  do  not,  my  love,"  returned  the  old  lady  laugh 
ing. 

"  I  could  not  tell  you  how  I  feel." 

"  I  will  tell  you  how  you  feel,"  said  the  countess 
with  her  new  air  of  extreme  indulgence.  "You  feel 
romantic.  Now  I  presume  you  will  admit  that  I  have 
seen  somewhat  more  of  the  world  than  a  young  per 
son  of  your  years  reared  at  Dohna.  Perhaps  you 
will  believe  me,  when  I  say  that  I  have  observed  the 
most  frantic  love-matches  with  nothing  a  year  usually 
end  in  bickerings,  misery,  divorce,  or  worse,  and  that 
most  men  are  not  mad  enough  to  treat  a  woman  badly 
if  she  happens  to  have  a  large  fortune  settled  upon  her 
self.  What  young  people  call  love,  my  dear,  is  all 
very  well  in  poetry  and  on  the  stage ;  though  for  my 
taste  it  occupies  too  much  space  there  and  everywhere. 
But  it  is  not  nutritious  for  one's  daily  food.  There 
are  a  great  many  important  things  in  life  entirely 
unconnected  with  it.  That  is  what  you  must  learn  as 
soon  as  possible." 

"  I  believe  that  it  is  all  of  life,  —  the  beginning 
and  the  end  and  the  soul  of  it.  I  do  not  mean  any 
thing  romantic,  as  you  may  think.  I  don't  even  mean 
marriage.  That  is  only  a  part.  But  we  do  not  love 
enough  —  you  do  not,  I  do  not;  and  there  is  noth 
ing  really  wrong  in  the  world,  except  too  little  love." 

"  Except  again,"  remarked  the  old  lady  wickedly, 
and  quite  unmoved  by  the  strong  feeling  in  the  young 
voice,  "  when  there  is  too  much." 

"  There  cannot  be  too  much.  Then  it  is  something 
else." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  295 

"  Come,  come,  what  does  a  girl  like  you  know  of 
such  things  ?  "  returned  the  countess  airily. 

"  One  cannot  read,  without  knowing  that  there  is  sin 
in  the  world,  and  shame  and  misery." 

"  But  well-bred  girls  do  not  discuss  such  things." 

"I  do,  when  I  must,  Aunt  Adelheid.  And  there 
is  one  thing  I  wish  to  say,  that  you  may  make  no  mis 
take  about  my  attitude,  whatever  comes.  It  has  been 
in  my  mind  ever  since  you  have  been  speaking.  If  I 
should  do  what  you  propose,  —  trade  with  your  money 
for  a  husband,  —  if  I  should  sell  myself  to  you,  and  to 
one  of  those  officers,  I  think  that  I  should  be  worse 
than  those  poor  creatures  we  call  bad  "  — 

"  Good  heavens,  Gabrielle  !  " 

"  Far  worse,  because  I  should  be  a  hypocrite,  pre 
tending  to  lead  a  virtuous  life,  which  they  do  not." 

"  But  I  call  this  coarse.  I  call  it  revolting.  I 
blush  for  you,  Gabrielle." 

"  To  me,  the  unspeakably  coarse  thing  is  to  marry 
a  man  for  his  money,  or  induce  him  to  marry  me  for 
mine,  if  I  had  any." 

"  But  have  I  expressed  the  faintest  objection  to  your 
falling  in  love  with  one  of  those  young  men  ?  " 

"  You  tell  me  to  pick  one  of  them  as  I  would  pick  a 
cherry.  But  I  think  better  of  all  of  them.  Lorenz 
Raven  and  Egon  Haller  may  not  be  great  philoso 
phers,  but  I  believe  that  they  are  gentlemen  at  heart. 
As  to  Herr  von  Paalzow,  there  is  nothing  mercenary 
in  that  man  —  nothing  !  " 

"  Oho  !  have  they  so  spirited  a  champion  ?  I  will 
wager  this  ruby  that  every  one  of  your  blameless 
knights  will  declare  himself  before  a  month  is  gone, 
and  with  all  respect,  my  little  pepper-box,  not  ex 
clusively  for  your  beaux  yeux.  Indeed,  poor  Lorenz 


296  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

has  been  sighing  audibly  for  some  time.  He  has 
spoken  to  me.  I  have  encouraged  him.  I  shall  en 
courage  them  all,"  she  declared  maliciously. 

"  I  presume,"  said  Gabrielle  slowly,  "  that  it  would 
not  be  impossible  for  him  to  like  me  for  myself." 

"  There  !  Now  you  are  recovering  your  common- 
sense.  Of  course  they  will  all  like  you  immensely. 
May  I  inquire  if  it  is  a  crime  for  a  man  to  prefer  a 
handsome,  clever  girl  with  a  fortune,  you,  for  instance, 
to  Sofie  Gobert,  who  has  neither  beauty  nor  wealth  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  crime  for  a  human  soul  to  sell  itself." 

"  Good  heavens,  child,  one  would  think  I  had  sug 
gested  something  monstrous  instead  of  an  every-day 
occurrence.  Your  ideas  are  dangerous.  They  would 
undermine  society." 

"  I  wish  that  they  could,  if  society  means  trading 
with  men  and  women." 

"  What  was  your  lovely  Mercedes  intending  to  do, 
before  von  Paalzow  appeared  upon  the  scene  ?  In 
fact,  what  is  she  still  intending  ?  For  she  has  no  idea 
of  relinquishing  the  marquis  as  long  as  she  can  throw 
dust  in  his  eyes." 

"  I  have  said  that  I  do  not  pretend  to  understand 
Mercedes.  Perhaps  her  home  is  not  loving  enough." 

"  A  very  logical  reason  for  marrying  the  Marquis 
de  Vallion,"  sneered  the  countess.  "  Really,  Gabrielle, 
it  is  too  droll,  but  Lucie  von  Rahden  had  a  very  snug 
little  fortune  !  " 

Gabrielle  stared  as  if  she  had  not  heard  aright. 

"  My  papa  ?  "  she  stammered,  the  quick  blood 
mounting  to  her  temples.  "  My  papa  ?  "  Moments 
passed,  in  which  she  did  not  speak,  or  turn  her  in 
tense  gaze  from  the  countess.  But  gradually  as  she 
looked  at  the  white-faced,  cold-eyed  old  woman,  who 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  297 

with  a  cynical  smile  on  her  thin  lips  sat  rubbing  her 
little  mongrel  dog's  back,  he  responding  with  small 
grunts  of  enjoyment,  the  young  girl's  anger  and 
heat  passed  away,  and  a  radiant  smile  illumined  her 
features,  a  smile  of  love  and  faith. 

"  You  do  not  know  him,"  she  said  softly ;  and  still 
looking  at  the  loveless,  faithless  old  woman,  friend 
less,  homeless,  and  poor  in  spite  of  her  millions, 
Gabrielle  pitied  her. 

A  servant  entered  with  a  salver,  upon  which  was 
Herr  von  Paalzow's  card. 

"  Quick,  Babette,  my  last  cap.  Or  no,  my  bonnet, 
Roschen.  Gabrielle,  the  ball  opens.  Will  you  come 
down  as  you  are  ?  " 

"  I  will  not  go  down  to-day.     Pray  excuse  me." 

"  But  wait,  let  me  consider.  Yes,  it  is  as  well 
upon  the  whole.  I  will  drive  Herr  von  Paalzow  to 
the  Frau  Major's.  Stupid,  the  last  bonnet,  with  the 
blush  roses.  Au  revoir  then,  my  pretty  Moonbeam." 
She  embraced  Gabrielle  vivaciously,  to  the  huge 
edification  of  Mousey  and  the  maids.  "  I  do  not 
mind  your  little  excitement.  We  understand  each 
other.  We  start  fresh  to-day.  Everything  is  changed." 

"  Pardon  me,  but  nothing  is  different,"  Gabrielle  re 
turned  hastily.  "As  to  your  plan  I  am  not  afraid,  for 
you  will  change  your  mind.  I  decline,  you  remember. 
I  decline  everything." 

She  could  not  make  her  repudiation  more  explicit, 
before  the  two  curious  maids. 

"  Babette,  another  fichu,"  called  the  old  lady 
sharply,  seated  at  her  toilette-table,  with  its  array  of 
ivory  and  silver  and  crystal.  "  Roschen,  devote  your 
self  to  Mousey,  when  I  am  .gone.  Sometimes  after 
walking  in  the  garden  with  you,  the  poor  dear  comes 


298  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

in  looking  quite  bored.  Devote  yourself  to  him  and 
not  to  your  silly  thoughts.  Say  good-by,  Mousey." 
Mousey  deigned  to  trot  to  the  chair,  extend  his  paw 
languidly,  nod  and  give  two  short  barks.  The  coun 
tess  caught  him  up  and  kissed  him  until  he  growled. 

"  There,  take  him.  Let  the  angel  eat  a  little  grass. 
I  cannot  imagine  what  makes  his  breath  feverish. 
How  shocking  the  light  is.  Glass  is  so  poor  nowa 
days.  Babette,  draw  the  shades  with  some  reference 
to  me  !  "  Carefully  adjusting  the  diaphanous  bonnet 
whose  blush  roses  lay  tenderly  on  the  pretty  gray  hair, 
she  smiled  at  the  handsome  old  lady  in  the  mirror. 
"  The  keys,  Babette  !  "  counting  them  suspiciously. 

Gabrielle  accompanied  her  to  the  stairway. 

"  Do  you  know,"  the  countess  began  with  her  mock 
ing  air,  "  you  are  cleverer  than  I  thought?  You 
almost  deceived  me.  Sancta  simplicitas  is  also  a  pay 
ing  role,  and  you  do  it  very  well.  Reject,  by  all  means, 
my  dear.  Continue  to  reject !  " 

Gabrielle  said  nothing,  but  watched  her  slowly 
descend  the  stairs,  heavy  and  uncertain  of  foot,  and 
smiling  back  maliciously,  as  she  paused  011  the  land 
ing  to  rest. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

"DiETZ,"  said  Hugo  abruptly,  as  Bernhard  sat 
with  him  one  noon  in  the  garden,  "  have  you  any  reli 
gion?" 

Dietz,  being  a  slow  man,  —  except  with  his  music 
and  his  smile,  —  crossed  one  leg  over  the  other,  put 
his  paper  cap  on  the  bench  beside  him,  ran  his  hand 
through  his  hair,  watched  a  blackcap  on  a  hawthorn 
tree,  picked  up  a  fallen  poplar-leaf,  and  twirled  the 
stem  in  his  teeth,  regarded  Hugo  some  moments  with 
a  ruminating  expression,  and  finally  replied  :  — 

"  Why  not  ?  " 

"  What  is  it  like?  "  demanded  Hugo. 

"There  are  a  great  many  kinds,"  Bernhard  said 
after  another  pause. 

"  Why  yes,  I  suppose  there  are  as  many  kinds  as 
there  are  men  and  women  011  this  earth  and  other 
planets ;  more  perhaps,  but  it  's  your  kind  I  am  ask 
ing  about." 

"  I  mean  that  I  Ve  got  a  good  many  kinds,"  Dietz 
admitted  seriously.  "Any  one  of  them  does  very 
well  for  me,  and  I  am  a  little  apt  to  mix  them.  I  sup 
pose  a  clever  man  like  you,  count,  would  need  some 
thing  different." 

Hugo  looked  at  him  questioningly. 

Bernhard  rose,  parted  the  shrubbery  with  widely 
outstretched  arms,  and  putting  himself  conveniently 
at  one  side,  looked  over  his  shoulder  at  Hugo. 

"  Can  you  see  St.  Mary's  spire  ?     Well,  it  is  my 


300  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

religion  they  blow  with  their  wind-instruments  from 
that  belfry  every  Sunday  morning." 

"Roman  Catholic?  I  should  scarcely  have  sup 
posed  that." 

"  Not  at  all,"  returned  Bernhard,  with  a  low,  happy 
laugh.  "  The  church  is  good  Roman  Catholic.  But 
my  religion  is  up  in  the  belfry  at  sunrise,  every  Sun 
day  morning." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,  but  it  is  lofty,  at 
all  events." 

"  You  have  never  heard  the  music  ?  you  are  asleep 
at  sunrise,  I  suppose.  Well,  you  see  there  's  a  Protes 
tant  banker  down  on  that  street.  He  is  a  rich  man, 
and  good  as  gold.  He  is  working  all  the  time  for  lit 
tle  children.  He  's  got  hundreds  of  them  off  in  the 
country  for  the  summer.  He  has  babies  taken  care 
of  while  the  mothers  are  working,  and  he  's  educating 
and  helping  along  and  cheering  up,  and  there  is  no 
end  to  the  good  he  does.  Well,  he  thought  he  would 
like  some  chorals  on  the  belfry-tower.  And  no  won 
der,  they  sound  so  sweet  and  solemn  in  the  morning 
when  everything  is  fresh  and  still  and  the  tones  seem 
to  float  over  the  city.  Now  the  Roman  Catholic  bel 
fry  happens  to  be  the  only  one  in  this  neighborhood. 
So  what  does  the  banker  do  but  go  to  see  the  priest. 
He  is  a  poor  man  and  good  as  gold,  working  in  the 
prisons,  working  in  the  worst  holes,  picking  people 
up  and  standing  them  on  their  feet,  helping  along 
and  comforting  them,  and  doing  no  end  of  good. 
So  the  banker  says,  '  Your  Reverence,  may  I  have 
some  music  played  every  Sunday  morning  on  your 
belfry  tower  ? '  His  Reverence  thinks  a  while  and 
says,  '  Your  music,  of  course  ?  '  '  Why  yes,'  says  the 
banker.  Then  his  Reverence  thinks  a  while  again,  and 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  301 

says,  '  I  should  like  the  music.  If  you  will  let  your 
musicians  play  some  of  our  hymns  too,  I  shall  be 
grateful  to  you,  and  I  think  there  will  be  no  objec 
tion.'  They  shook  hands  on  it,  and  the  banker  pays 
the  musicians.  Now  what  happens  every  Sunday? 
First  comes  a  Roman  Catholic  bit,  for  the  banker 
is  very  polite  and  begins  and  ends  with  the  priest's 
own  music  ;  then  comes  some  good  tough  Protestant 
choral,  then  a  prayer  to  the  Virgin  ;  but  all  the  same, 
there  is  Martin  Luther  sandwiched  in  between  the 
Bleeding  Hearts  and  the  Hail  Maries.  That  is  my 
religion,  count." 

"And  all  that  goes  on  while  we  are  asleep?  Is 
nobody's  conscience  outraged  ?  Why  there  have  been 
wars  for  less." 

"  Oh,  the  ones  that  listen  early  in  the  morning  like 
it  too  well  to  fight  about  it." 

"  But  do  you  go  down  there  to  church?  " 

"  Sometimes  —  to  hear  the  organ,"  he  added  with 
simplicity. 

Hugo  smiled. 

"  Sometimes  I  stroll  into  the  synagogue,  if  I 
have  a  spare  hour  on  their  Sabbath,  and  sometimes  I 
go  to  church  in  the  woods,  and  lie  under  a  tree,  and 
listen." 

"  But  Dietz,  that  is  all  very  well,  only  what  do 
you  believe  ?  " 

"  I  told  you  it  would  not  be  clever  enough  for  a  man 
like  you,"  Bernhard  replied  gently,  unconscious  that 
the  exposition  of  his  views  left  anything  to  be  desired 
in  the  way  of  clearness. 

"  But  do  you  know,  they  would  call  you  a  pagan  ?  " 
rejoined  Hugo  amused. 

"Why  not?" 


302  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Hugo  probed  no  farther  that  day.  Indeed,  Dietz 
shortly  after  returned  to  his  work,  leaving  the  invalid 
smiling  over  the  stone-carver's  ideas  or  personality. 
Hugo  sometimes  questioned  if  Dietz  was  in  himself 
interesting  or  only  seemed  so  to  him  in  contrast  to 
Lipps'  meagre  powers  of  entertainment,  and  the  tread 
mill  of  petty  complaint,  censorious  gossip,  and  sordid 
sentiments  which  the  countess  provided  for  him  every 
morning.  But  the  more  he  saw  Dietz  the  better  he 
liked  him.  The  man  amused  him,  won  his  respect  and 
confidence,  and  soothed  his  irritable  nerves.  Although 
Hugo  occupied  himself  hour  after  hour  with  more  or 
less  morbid  and  sophistical  speculations  upon  subjects 
which  Dietz  had  never  consciously  considered,  the  count 
usually  found  when  he  would  propound  one  of  his 
knotty  queries  that  in  the  utter  simplicity  of  Bern- 
hard's  reply  lay  a  wholesome  truth  which  would  return 
when  Hugo  was  alone  and  confront  him  with  some  of 
Bernhard's  own  cheerfulness. 

"  Your  conundrums,  count,  are  very  good  to  sharpen 
a  man's  wits,"  he  told  Hugo  admiringly  one  day,  smil 
ing  down  upon  him  as  if  he  were  a  precocious  child, 
and  as  if  the  problems  and  dogmas  on  account  of 
which  men  have  been  hating  and  slaying  and  burning 
and  boiling  and  racking  and  excommunicating  and 
crucifying  one  another  for  centuries,  and  the  mysteries 
over  which  philosophers  have  spent  their  yearning 
lives,  were  all  products  of  Hugo's  fertile  brain.  It 
must  be  confessed  that  the  count  took  a  certain  ma 
licious  pleasure  in  dragging  out  of  their  corners  the 
world's  hoariest  old  dry-bones  of  contention,  and  fling 
ing  them  down  before  this  fresh  and  unapprehensive 
mental  appetite.  Bernhard  would  dispose  of  them 
with  one  slow  gulp,  and  smilingly  await  more. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  303 

Every  day  when  he  came  over  the  hedge  with  his 
good  thump,  the  stone-dust  in  his  beard  and  nails,  and 
his  breath  smelling  of  beer,  which  he  swallowed  fast 
that  he  might  have  more  time  with  the  invalid,  he  used 
to  put  Hugo  on  his  crutches,  and  make  him  walk 
across  the  little  grass-plot  in  front  of  the  fountain. 
Hugo  objected  and  protested  at  first. 

"  It  is  useless  trouble  and  pain,"  he  said.  "  I  shall 
never  walk  again.  I  can  totter  across  there,  of  course, 
if  you  enjoy  the  spectacle,  but  I  assure  you  it  is  abso 
lutely  useless." 

"  It  is  more  natural  to  walk  a  little,"  Bernhard  would 
reply,  his  strong  right  arm  supporting  the  count ;  and 
as  Dietz  was  big  and  sweet-tempered  and  persistent, 
Hugo  found  himself  yielding,  at  first  reluctantly,  later 
as  a  matter  of  course. 

"  You  cannot  make  me  any  better,  I  suppose  you 
are  aware,"  he  said  one  day,  frowning  and  not  stirring 
as  Dietz  stood  waiting  with  the  crutches,  smoothing 
one  with  his  large  hand. 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  that,"  Dietz  returned 
placidly.  "  Nobody  knows.  But  it  is  n't  natural  to 
make  yourself  worse.  You  might  as  well  use  what 
you've  got  left,"  and  the  calm  directness  of  his  allu 
sions  to  Hugo's  infirmity  never  gave  offence,  while  the 
slightest  word  on  this  subject  from  the  countess  was 
apt  to  rouse  his  ire.  Day  after  day  he  lay  out  in  his 
sheltered  corner  of  the  garden,  where  he  could  only 
see  the  trees  and  shrubbery  closing  around  him  like  a 
bower,  and  the  sky  above,  and  if  his  chair  was  turned 
in  that  direction,  the  steep  slope  of  the  broad  vine-clad 
hill.  His  companions  were  chiefly  books,  but  oftener 
and  oftener  as  the  long  sunny  spring  wore  on,  he 
would  drop  his  book  to  watch  a  lizard  or  a  beetle. 


304  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

The  birds  grew  so  tame  that  they  ceased  to  fear  the 
long  motionless  figure.  He  began  to  take  an  intimate 
pleasure  in  butterflies  and  bees.  He  slept  more,  the 
warmth  and  the  odors  and  the  interminable  droning 
and  buzzing  tranquillized  him,  and  the  sound  of  build 
ing  no  longer  seemed  to  him  a  cruel  and  noisy  noise, 
nerve-wrenching  and  soul-exasperating,  but  something 
too  sustained,  large,  and  po\\  erf ul  to  annoy  him. 

The  countess  complained  that  the  morning  visit 
which  she  conscientiously  paid  her  son  must  now  take 
place  in  precisely  the  part  of  the  garden  which  she  dis 
liked,  and  which  she  declared  inimical  to  her  health 
and  Mousey's.  As  she  was  always  complaining  of 
something,  Hugo  was  unfilial  enough  to  reason  that  it 
was  upon  the  whole  of  small  consequence  what  roused 
her  lamentations. 

"  It  seems  as  if  it  were  arranged  especially  to  annoy 
me,"  she  remarked,  the  first  time  she  was  obliged  to 
penetrate  to  his  retreat.  "  Now,  why  could  you  not  be 
brought  out  a  little  later,  Hugo,  when  I  go  to  lunch  ? 
If  you  knew  how  that  odious  box  oppresses  me, 
and  the  stuffy  cedar  !  " 

"  I  don't  think  myself  that  it  is  of  much  importance 
where  I  am  put,  —  whether  here  or  anywhere  else," 
Hugo  replied  in  not  the  most  amiable  tone  in  the 
world.  "  But  they  happen  to  like  to  keep  me  out  here 
all  day." 

"  They  ?  Who  are  they  ?  Whose  wish  should  out 
weigh  your  mother's,  my  son  ?  " 

"  On  conventional  principles,  nobody's,"  Hugo  re 
torted  with  scarcely  a  pleasant  laugh.  "  But  the 
doctor,  for  one,  seems  to  entertain  the  idea  that  the 
longer  I  lie  here  every  day,  the  better  it  is  for  me. 
I  know  you  don't  prize  his  opinion,  but  as  I  never  had 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  305 

the  honor  of  meeting  Dr.  Pressigny,  my  doctor  hap 
pens  to  be  the  best  of  his  species  that  I  know." 

"  Don't  eat  that  box,  dearest !  It  will  poison  you," 
cried  the  countess. 

"  I  had  the  impression,"  Hugo  remarked  politely, 
"  that  animals  were  endowed  with  the  knowledge  of 
good  and  evil  herbs,  and  needed  no  warning  from  our 
smaller  discrimination.  That  is,  animals  in  a  state  of 
nature ;  I  admit  that  Mousey's  sedentary  mode  of 
life  may  influence  " 

"  Never  mind  Mousey,"  she  said  curtly.  "  You 
were  telling  me  who  induced  you  to  come  out  to  this 
unhealthy  spot." 

"  Beside  the  doctor,  who  does  n't  count  with  you  in 
the  least,  two  others  who  count  less,  —  Lipps,  and  my 
very  good  friend  Bernhard  Dietz." 

"  Oh,  that  man  !  "  she  exclaimed  with  hard  con 
tempt. 

u  Precisely.     That  man." 

She  sat  silent  a  moment,  a  nervous  perturbed  look 
on  her  face. 

"  Hugo,  I  hope  that  you  fumigate  thoroughly.  I 
cannot  interfere  with  your  whims,  however  strongly  I 
may  disapprove  them.  But  I  think  that  I  am  justified 
in  insisting  upon  fumigation.  When  one  thinks  of 
the  bad  drainage  and  fever  and  Heaven  knows  what, 
that  such  people  carry  about  in  their  clothes  "  — 

"  I  '11  ask  Dietz  if  he  has  anything  of  the  kind  in 
his  pockets." 

"  It  is  a  poor  jest,  as  we  all  may  find,  when  he  has 
introduced  some  vulgar  disease  into  the  house.  I  sim 
ply  shuddered  and  held  my  breath,  when  I  first  saw 
that  man  passing  through  my  corridor,  and  I  fumi 
gated  at  once..  I  wonder  at  you,  Hug'o,  I  do.  indeed." 


306  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

He  merely  regarded  her  from  beneath  half-closed 
lids,  and  with  an  odd  smile  that  reminded  her  un 
pleasantly  of  the  late  count. 

At  length,  he  said  coldly :  — 

"  I  have  already  told  you  how  I  regard  him.  When 
I  say  that  he  is  my  friend,  and  that  I  never  liked  any 
man  as  well,  it  is  sufficient,  I  think." 

She  sighed  behind  her  handkerchief  and  vinaigrette 
held  closely  to  her  face.  Her  anxious,  mistrustful 
glance  wandered  from  tree  to  bush,  from  Mousey 
to  her  son,  falling  from  time  to  time  upon  the  box- 
border,  whose  poisonous  exhalations  rilled  her  with 
dismay. 

"  Don't  be  nervous,  mamma,"  Hugo  said  kindly 
enough,  "there  is  no  deadly  upas-tree  here." 

"  What  does  that  man  do?  "  she  asked  as  if  the  odi 
ous  box  and  the  malarial  possibilities  and  Dietz  be 
longed  in  one  category.  "  What  is  it  that  attracts  you  ? 
It  is  incomprehensible." 

Hugo  raised  his  eyebrows,  stared  at  her  an  instant, 
then  said  quietly :  — 

"  He  is  singularly  kind  to  me." 

"  Kind  to  you  !  Kind  to  a  Count  Kronfels  !  I 
dare  say  he  knows  on  which  side  his  bread  is  buttered," 
exclaimed  the  old  lady  with  a  laugh. 

There  was  silence  in  the  sunny  garden,  except  for 
the  softly  plashing  fountain,  Mousey  snapping  at  a 
toad  and  vituperating  it  for  escaping,  and  the  short, 
loud  breathing  of  the  countess. 

"  Mamma,"  said  Hugo  slowly  and  with  his  father's 
smile,  which  made  her  uncomfortable,  "  if  you  were  a 
man,  and  if  I  had  not  the  honor  of  being  your  son, 
and  if  I  were  not  a  cripple,  and  if  it  were  worth 
while,  and  if,  in  short,  a  variety  of  circumstances  were 


THE    OPEN   DOOR.  307 

otherwise,  I  might  feel  inclined  to  resent  that  re 
mark." 

"  Pshaw,  Hugo,"  returned  the  countess,  "  I  have  not 
the  remotest  idea  what  you  mean."  Presently  she  re 
sumed,  "  I  had  something  important  to  tell  you  this 
morning,  but  this  place  is  so  trying  to  my  nerves ! 
Hugo,  if  you  had  one  atom  of  my  sensitiveness,  you 
could  not  endure  this  atmosphere." 

He  drew  a  sigh  of  profound  weariness. 

"  Why  do  you  give  yourself  the  trouble  of  coming 
to  me  ?  Why  don't  you  send  your  love  or  something 
byBabette?" 

"  You  know  well,  Hugo,  that  nothing  would  make 
me  neglect  you.  It  is  the  rarest  thing  that  I  omit  my 
visit,  only  when  something  unavoidable  detains  me." 

"  Mousey's  colic,"  muttered  Hugo. 

"  It  is  a  matter  of  principle  with  me,  and  I  shall  do 
a  mother's  duty,  even  "  — 

"  Even  if  you  have  to  face  the  perils  of  box  and 
breathe  the  rank  poison  of  the  cedar  of  Lebanon." 

"  Laugh,  by  all  means,  Hugo.  You  have  not  my 
nerves." 

"  What  was  it  you  wished  to  tell  me  ?  "  he  asked, 
moving  restlessly. 

"  I  have  put  Gabrielle  down  in  my  will." 

After  a  pause  she  continued,  "  Well,  have  you 
nothing  to  say  to  that  ?  " 

"Nothing." 

"  Why  do  you  smile  ?  I  told  you  that  von  Paalzow 
had  come  back.  I  think  she  will  take  von  Paalzow. 
Have  you  nothing  to  say  to  that  either  ?  " 

"  Nothing." 

"  Gabrielle  is  very  trying  at  times.  She  is  not  lov 
ing.  She  is  not  what  1  have  longed  for.  Ah,  if  I 


308  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

had  had  a  daughter,  she  would  have  comprehended 
me  !  It  is  a  sad  fate  to  feel  that  strangers  are  schem 
ing  for  your  money." 

Hugo  made  no  response. 

"  She  is  ungrateful.  When  one  thinks  of  all  the 
pleasures  that  I  provide  for  her !  She  does  what  I 
tell  her,  but  she  has  no  initiative.  She  is  not  pre- 
voyante.  There  is  always  something  wanting  in  our 
intercourse.  Then  when  I  remember  how  she  tried 
to  make  trouble  between  you  and  me,  how  she  ac 
tually  went  to  your  room  and  complained,  I  am  un 
certain  of  her." 

"  I  can  only  repeat  what  I  have  already  told  you, 
that  nothing  of  the  kind  occurred.  The  Baroness 
von  Dohna,  on  the  one  occasion  when  I  had  the  honor 
of  any  prolonged  conversation  with  her,  conducted 
herself  more  like  a  gallant  man  than  like  the  enraged 
governess  or  abused  companion  I  expected  to  see. 
She  made  no  complaint  whatever  of  you.  As  you  are 
perfectly  aware  that  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  tell 
ing  lies,  why  can  you  not  dismiss  that  doubt  of  her,  at 
least?" 

"  A  man  always  defends  a  pair  of  pretty  eyes," 
muttered  the  old  lady,  wavering. 

He  frowned. 

"  Is  that  the  only  time  you  have  seen  her  ?  "  she 
inquired  with  a  resentful  air.  "  She  never  comes 
down  and  talks  with  you  ?  Never  comes  out  here  ?  " 

"  Except  that  time,"  he  began  with  scrupulous  repose 
of  manner,  "  and  once  here  by  accident,  and  glimpses 
of  her  in  the  distance,  coming  and  going  in  the  carriage, 
I  have  never  seen  her.  But  if  I  had,"  he  broke  out 
with  a  fierce,  unaccountable  impulse,  "  what  then  ?  If 
she  had  talked  with  me,  and  smiled  on  me,  and 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  309 

brought  some  freshness  and  beauty  and  goodness  into 
my  life,  what  then  ?  " 

"  How  can  you  be  so  violent  ?  Did  you  not  refuse 
to  know  her  ?  Have  you  not  declined  to  take  any  in 
terest  in  her,  and  scarcely  had  the  patience  to  listen 
when  I  have  spoken  her  name  ?  You  are  very  inconsis 
tent.  There  would  of  course  be  no  impropriety  in  her 
talking  with  you.  The  thing  itself  is  irreproachable, 
since  you  are  completely  —  uncompromising.  But,  as 
you  vowed  that  you  would  not  see  her,  and  are  pre 
judiced  against  her,  it  is  evident,  if  you  meet,  that 
she  seeks  you ;  and  you  must  confess,  Hugo,  that  clan 
destine  tete-a-tetes  between  my  son  and  a  girl  upon 
whom  I  lavish  every  luxury,  and  for  whose  future  I 
am  most  generously  providing,  are  not  very  agreeable 
to  contemplate.  Ah,"  she  sighed,  recalling  the  long 
perspective  of  women,  tall  and  short,  plump  and  thin, 
dark  and  fair,  whom  before  her  marriage  and  after 
she  had  elected  to  the  nondescript  office  of  companion, 
confidante,  recipient  of  her  bounties,  and  kisser  of  the 
hand  that  smote  hard  and  often,  "  they  have  been 
mostly  sly  cats.  I  am  a  lonely  old  woman,  Hugo  !  " 
and  tears  started  to  her  eyes. 

But  he  scarcely  heard  her  concluding  sighs,  for  one 
phrase  of  her  tirade  had  awakened  in  him  unreason 
ing  and  vehement  contradiction,  and  an  impulse  of 
self-assertion  so  strong  and  imperious  that  he  would 
fain  have  cried  :  — 

"  Wait !  Don't  be  so  sure  of  me  !  How  dare  you 
pronounce  me  harmless  ?  I  am  not  dead  yet.  I  am 
a  living  man.  What  if  I  and  my  crutches  should 
hobble  into  the  lists,  and  compete  with  your  padded 
old  sires  and  your  brainless  young  ones  ?  "  A  great 
throb  of  life,  of  painful,  hungry,  masterful  life  shook 


310  THE   OPEN  DOOR, 

him  cruelly.  It  was  incomprehensible.  Had  he  not 
laid  these  spectres  low?  These  ghosts  of  joy  and 
desire  ?  These  visions  of  fair  women  ?  What  then 
was  this  insensate  thought,  leading  him  to  defy,  to 
assert,  to  claim  what  he  would  for  his  own  ? 

St.  Mary's  clock,  followed  by  all  the  clocks  far  and 
near,  struck  twelve,  and  the  whistles  and  school-boys 
began  their  riot. 

A  step  was  approaching  the  hedge. 

Hugo's  eyes  were  luminous,  two  bright  spots  glowed 
on  his  cheeks.  "  Here  comes  Dietz,  mamma,"  he 
said.  "  You  'd  better  ask  him  if  he  has  any  of  those 
things  in  his  pockets." 

She  rose  with  every  appearance  of  consternation, 
but  before  she  could  draw  her  light  shawl  over  her 
shoulders,  gather  up  her  vinaigrette  and  handker 
chief  and  parasol  and  fan,  Dietz  was  over  the  hedge 
and  advancing  toward  them.  Seeing  her  he  hesitated, 
then  came  on  with  his  deliberate  step,  smiling  kindly 
on  mother  and  son. 

"  Dietz,"  said  Hugo,  his  hand  closing  affectionately 
over  Bernhard's,  "  it  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  pre 
sent  you  to  my  mother."  He  experienced,  in  fact, 
a  delectably  malicious  satisfaction  in  watching  his 
mother's  august  countenance.  "  Mamma,  this  is  my 
friend,  Herr  Bernhard  Dietz,"  he  continued  in  the 
suave  accents  of  perfect  ceremony. 

Adelheid,  Countess  of  Kronfels,  actually  confronted 
by  this  representative  of  bad  drainage,  contagious 
disease,  and  unconscionable  plebeian  vices,  no  longer 
fled  to  her  vinaigrette,  but  resorted  gallantly  to 
that  weapon  of  offence,  her  eye-glass,  mounted  on  a 
hammered-by-hand  gold  stick  nearly  a  foot  long. 
Through  this  intimidating  observatory  she  surveyed 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  311 

handsome  Bernhard's  six  feet  two  and  a  half  inches 
of  height,  the  large  features  of  his  peaceful  and  sunny 
countenance,  his  beard,  and  his  blouse.  In  her  eyes, 
about  her  thin  lips  and  pinched  nostrils,  was  an  ex 
pression  so  coldly  aggressive  that  in  a  lady  of  less 
degree  it  might  have  been  called  brutal. 

She  turned  to  the  invalid. 

"  Good-morning,  Hugo,"  she  said,  extending  her 
hand.  For  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  did  not  per 
form  the  parting  ceremony  of  raising  it  to  his  lips. 

"  Mousey,  my  angel,"  she  called,  "  come  away." 
She  did  not  say  "  Come  "  simply,  but  "  Come  away!  " 
meaning,  "Away  from  this  infection,  this  pestilence 
that  walketh  in  my  garden." 

Mousey  turned,  and  delivered  a  volley  of  sharp 
short  barks  at  Dietz.  The  dog's  pedigree  being  at 
best  miscellaneous,  he  felt  the  greater  need  of  pub 
licly  asserting  his  contempt  of  the  lowly-born.  So  he 
yelped  his  social  prejudice  at  the  man  in  the  blouse, 
and  followed  the  countess. 

Bernhard  attentively  watched  the  black  satin  folds 
and  French  cap  disappear  behind  the  shrubbery,  after 
which  he  sat  down  on  the  bench  that  the  lady  had  just 
occupied,  whistled  softly  through  his  teeth,  glanced  at 
Hugo,  then  at  the  tree-tops  and  the  sky,  and  finally 
looked  long  at  the  count's  excited  eyes  and  nn- 
natural  color. 

"  You  are  tired,"  said  Dietz  after  a  while.  "  Per 
haps  you  are  too  tired  to  walk  to-day." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  am  eager  to  be  off.  Give  me 
my  wings." 

He  hobbled  painfully  to  the  fountain  and  back. 

"  Do  you  find  me  graceful,  Dietz  ?  Do  you  think 
me  winning  ?  " 


312  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

Bernhard  said  nothing,  but  merely  watched  him 
with  his  steady,  sensible,  gentle  gaze,  glanced  up  at 
the  noon-sun,  moved  the  chair  slightly,  and  turned  the 
cushions. 

Hugo  found  his  wings  clumsy  and  leaden,  while  his 
eager  spirit  leaped  on  uncontrollably. 

"  A  crippled  body  on  two  sticks,  and  a  rebel  of  a 
soul,"  he  thought.  "  I  trample  on  him,  he  gets  up 
and  defies  me.  Still  a  man  does  n't  want  to  be  called 
uncompromising,  —  not  while  he  lives." 

His  smile  was  flashing  and  cynical,  his  eyes  singu 
larly  brilliant  above  his  flushed  cheeks.  "  That 's  too 
serious  a  blow.  She  might  have  let  me  think  I  was 
dangerous.  I  was  already  so  elated,  so  complacent, 
why  did  she  disturb  me  ?  " 

"  Is  n't  that  enough  ?  "  Dietz  suggested. 

"  No,"  Hugo  replied,  turning  and  going  a  second 
time  to  the  fountain.  He  came  back  exhausted. 
Dietz  took  the  crutches,  put  him  in  his  chair,  still 
without  speaking,  and  sat  down  again,  the  minuet 
rhythm  from  Don  Giovanni  lingering  almost  imper 
ceptibly  in  his  breath,  with  a  sound  too  faint  to  be 
called  whistling,  and  in  an  occasional  nod  of  his  head, 
to  mark  the  end  of  a  phrase.  He  let  Hugo  rest  some 
minutes  before  he  said  :  — 

"  Count,  why  don't  you  see  more  people  ?  " 

Hugo  responded  with  a  supercilious  grimace,  de 
signed  for  himself  or  the  people  or  both. 

"  Because  it 's  more  natural." 

"  You  forget  that  I  am  an  unnatural  object." 

"  Suppose  I  should  lie  on  my  back,  and  think  of 
myself  all  day  ?  "  remarked  Bernhard  meditatively. 

"  How  do  you  know  what  I  think  of  all  day,  you 
great  —  innocent  ?  " 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  318 

"  I  should  be  foolish  and  fanciful,"  said  Bernhard, 
calmly  pursuing  his  own  line  of  thought.  "  I  should 
see  things  crooked." 

"  Prescribe  for  me,  Dr.  Bernhard  Dietz,"  returned 
the  count  with  a  certain  eagerness,  in  spite  of  his 
light  tone.  "  I  don't  promise  to  take  your  pills  and 
nostrums,  mind  you  !  " 

"  Why  don't  you  have  a  big  dog  ?  "  Bernhard  went 
on,  gentle,  massive,  and  imperturbable,  and  reply 
ing  only  with  his  kind  eyes  to  the  invalid's  interrup 
tions.  tk  A  big  dog  is  a  deal  of  company  and  com 
fort.  Suppose  you  had  one  to  lie  down  there  and 
snap  at  flies,  and  come  and  put  his  nose  in  your  hand, 
and  look  at  you  with  his  trusty  eyes  ?  " 

"  Prescribe  something  else,  my  dear  fellow.  That 
ugly  little  bastard  that  barked  at  you  suffers  no 
rival.  I  have  never  been  able  to  keep  my  dogs  near 
me.  I  had  a  couple  of  Gordon  setters  not  very  long 
ago.  I  introduced  them  surreptitiously  into  my  quar 
ters  via  my  balcony  window.  Mousey  was  sleeping 
the  sleep  of  the  glutton  in  his  padded  velvet  box,  at 
the  extreme  end  of  the  house  up-stairs.  Yet  I  assure 
you  that  in  less  than  a  half -minute  he  was  writhing 
in  convulsions  of  jealousy  before  my  door,  and  howl 
ing  enough  to  wake  the  dead.  Talk  of  magnetic  cur 
rents  and  the  psychic  force  !  What  roused  the  little 
over-fed  brute  ?  What  told  him  that  my  high-bred 
glossy  long  beauties  were  stretching  themselves  on 
my  hearth-rug  ?  No,  no,  Dietz,  I  'm  a  clog-lover,  but 
indeed  I  humbly  bow  to  Mousey's  will.  There  are 
things  to  which  it  is  wisest  to  submit.  If  you  lived 
in  our  house,  you  would  cringe  before  Mousey,  with 
the  rest  of  us." 

Dietz   obstinately  regarded  the    point  in  the  foli- 


314  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

age  where  he  had  watched  those  stout  black  satin 
shoulders  and  the  fluttering  ends  of  the  French  cap 
disappear.  He  still  saw  the  hard  face  and  soft  hair 
of  the  count's  mother,  and  the  gaunt  craving  look  in 
Hugo's  weary  face  did  not  escape  him. 

"  It  is  n't  natural,"  he  muttered,  so  low  that  the 
words  lost  themselves  in  the  half-breathed  melody 
from  Don  Giovanni. 

"  Why  don't  you  see  some  of  your  old  friends  ?  " 

"  Would  you  ?  " 

"  Why  not  ?  And  why  don't  you  talk  with  that 
beautiful  young  lady  ?  She  would  like  it." 

He  spoke  slowly  with  long  pauses,  nor  was  Hugo 
in  a  loquacious  mood. 

'•  Dr.  Dietz,  I  'm  afraid  that  you  are  a  quack,!'  he 
returned  after  some  time. 

"  A  dog,  some  children  "  — 

"  Children  !  "  repeated  Hugo  derisively. 

"  A  dog,  some  children,  some  old  friends,  a  wo 
man's  voice  and  hand  and  smile,  some  music,  and 
some  laughter,"  Bernhard  enumerated  deliberately, 
looking  about  as  if  he  were  peopling  the  garden  ac 
cording  to  his  own  scheme. 

"  I  hated  all  that,  you  know,"  Hugo  muttered,  with 
not  unswerving  purpose. 

"  Of  course.  You  were  ill,"  said  the  sweet  and  in 
dulgent  voice. 

O 

"  You  are  an  awfully  good  fellow,  Dietz,"  and  Hugo 
abruptly  put  out  his  hand. 

"It  does  n't  sound  generous  for  a  strong  man 
to  say  it  to  a  weak  one,"  Dietz  went  on,  "  it  does  n't 
seem  fair  play,  but  it  's  true  all  the  same.  There 
are  harder  things  to  bear  than  your  troubles,  though 
yours  are  pretty  hard,  count,  —  yours  are  hard,"  he 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  315 

repeated,  nodding  his  conviction,  and  looking  down 
with  his  large  soft  gaze  on  the  lonely  cripple. 

"  At  least  my  ambition  does  not  soar  beyond  my 
own,"  returned  Hugo,  with  a  flash  of  irritation  and 
some  astonishment. 

"  There  's  a  woman  down  our  way  who  's  been  bed 
ridden  fifteen  years.  That  is  a  long  time." 

Hugo  listened  with  at  first  a  curious  sense  of  per 
sonal  wrong.  He  did  not  want  to  hear  about  the 
woman,  he  felt  reluctant  to  expend  sympathy  or  pity 
upon  her.  He  was  vexed  with  her  for  appearing  upon 
his  horizon. .  But,  perhaps  because  Dietz  was  silent 
for  some  moments,  the  count  could  not  escape  the 
thought  of  her,  and  began  to  wonder  about  her  and 
picture  her  vividly. 

At  last  he  said  coldly  :  — 

"  If  she  had  n't  been  a  fool,  she  would  have  gotten 
rid  of  herself  long  ago." 

"  I  don't  think  she  's  a  fool,"  Bernhard  rejoined 
with  much  gentleness. 

"  Then  why  does  she  bear  it  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  she  thinks  it  is  best.  She  sees  a  good 
many  people.  They  get  a  good  deal  of  comfort  and 
advice  from  her.  It  is  a  queer  thing,  there  is  a  kind 
of  mischief  in  her  still,  and  it  takes  her  about  three 
minutes  to  get  most  people  telling  her  of  their  head 
aches  and  backaches.  She  never  speaks  of  her  con 
dition." 

"  Why  do  you  talk  to  me  about  her  ?  "  demanded 
Hugo  with  some  vehemence. 

"I  thought  you  might  like  to  have  me." 

"  Well,  I  don't." 

"  She  has  children  that  have  grown  up  around  her," 
Dietz  continued  tranquilly.  "  When  they  were  little, 


316  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

she  could  n't  work  for  them  and  care  for  them.  That 's 
the  hardest  thing  for  a  woman.  They  are  poor,  and 
she  is  an  expense.  That 's  hard  for  her.  She  is  alone 
a  good  deal,  as  you  are,  and  she  has  no  little  whistle 
that  will  call  somebody  with  shawls  and  cushions  and 
wine  and  fruit  and  new  books." 

"Dietz,"  began  Hugo,  more  moved  than  he  cared  to 
confess,  "  I  'm  obliged  to  you  for  your  penny-lecture. 
It  sounds  like  Sunday  Chats  for  Little  Ones  at  Home. 
But  I  tell  you  in  the  first  place,  I  can't  bear  your 
virtuous  cripple.  She  is  distasteful  to  me.  A  well- 
regulated  cripple  ought  to  swear  and  throw  things 
about."  With  a  sudden  boyish,  affectionate  smile, 
which  he  often  had  for  Dietz,  he  added :  "  But  per 
haps  she  did  n't  have  at  the  start  a  brute  of  a 
temper,  like  mine?  " 

"  No,  she  did  n't,"  Bernhard  admitted,  "  she  was 
always  patient." 

"  Confound  the  woman !  "  exclaimed  Hugo  after  a 
while.  "  I  wish  you  had  n't  introduced  her  to  me." 

"  She  does  more  good  than  many  who  can  go  about 
and  work.  I  know  others  too.  There  is  a  good  deal 
to  bear  in  the  world." 

"  Thank  you.  This  dose  is  sufficient  for  me  to- 
day." 

"  You  'd  better  see  more  people,  count,"  returned 
Bernhard  with  gentle  persistence  and  seeming  irrele 
vance. 

"  Fifteen  years  !  "  muttered  Hugo.  "  She  'd  better 
get  rid  of  herself." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  she  can  ?  "  asked  Dietz. 

"  Why,  man,  it  's  easy  enough." 

"  It  is  easy  for  her  to  get  rid  of  her  body,  I  know," 
Bernhard  remarked  thoughtfully. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  317 

'"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  I  'm  not  sure  that  she  can  get  rid  of  herself, 
that  's  all.  There  is  something  that  she  did  n't  give 
herself,  and  I  don't  know  whether  she  can  take  it 
away  or  not.  I  don't  believe  she  can." 

Hugo  hesitated. 

"  Why,  Dietz,"  he  said  gravely,  "  have  you  thought 
about  —  such  things  ?  It  is  n't  like  you,  is  it  ?  " 

"  I  had  to  think  about  it  once,"  Bernhard  replied 
simply,  "because  a  friend  of  mine  got  desperate 
about  money,  and  shot  himself.  Every  man  of  us 
would  have  helped  him,  if  he  had  asked,  but  he 
did  n't.  I  saw  him,  and  I  had  to  think  about  him ; 
and  I  made  up  my  mind  then  and  there,  and  I  have 
never  changed  it.  You  see,"  he  added,  "  you  can  never 
destroy  anything,  you  can  only  seem  to.  The  life  in 
us,  —  it  does  n't  ask  us  if  we  want  to  be  born,  it 
does  n't  ask  us  if  we  want  to  die  ;  it  is  beyond  us,  and 
I  don't  believe  it  can  be  destroyed." 

"  Dietz,"  returned  Hugo,  profoundly  surprised, 
"  there  are  wise  men  who  believe  the  contrary." 

"  Why  not  ?  Every  man  has  a  right  to  his  opinion. 
I  should  never  have  thought  about  it,  probably,  if  it 
had  n't  been  for  the  poor  fellow.  I  have  n't  much 
time  for  mysteries,  and  not  being  a  clever  man,  they 
are  hard  for  me.  But  that  day,  when  I  looked  in  his 
white  face,  these  thoughts  came  to  me,  and  I  was  sure 
he  had  only  gone  on  somewhere." 

"  You  think  he  would  have  done  better  to 
stay?" 

"  Of  course." 

"  And  your  well-behaved  cripple,  your  example  to 
sinners,  what  if  she  should  decide  to  take  the  matter 
into  her  own  hands,  after  all  ?  " 


318  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

There  was  a  strange  quick  glance  exchanged  be 
tween  the  two  men,  a  silent  furtive  appeal,  a  calm 
response. 

"  I  should  be  sorry,"  Dietz  answered,  "  for  she 
would  have  to  suffer  horribly  before  she  came  to  that," 
and  his  voice  imparted  tenderness  and  strength  to 
his  simple  words,  "  but  I  should  still  think  she  would 
have  done  better  to  bear  it.  She  will  bear  it.  She 
has  courage." 

"  Oh,  she  has  courage,  has  she  ?  " 

"  More  than  any  man  I  know." 

Hugo  laughed. 

"  You  hit  a  fellow  pretty  hard  when  he  's  down." 

"  You  'd  better  see  more  people,  count.  There  's  a 
good  many  people  that  would  like  to  see  you.  It 
is  n't  healthy  to  lie  all  day  and  think  of  your 
self." 

"  You  are  an  exasperatingly  obstinate  man,  and  I 
am  not  sure  that  you  are  not  impudent,"  Hugo  said 
with  a  smile. 

"  I  never  liked  a  man  as  well  as  I  like  you,"  the 
big  fellow  returned  shyly. 

Hugo  looked  at  hini  long  without  speaking,  then 
broke  out  with,  "  I  say,  Dietz,  that  woman,  —  I  don't 
like  her,  do  you  know  she 's  detestable,  —  but  will 
you  find  out  what  she  wants  ?  " 

"Why  not?" 

"Get  her  anything  she  wants  —  from  you,  mind 
you;  I  want  to  drive  the  thought  of  her  out  of  my 
head  ;  I  'm  only  buying  my  peace.  Has  she  a  good 
chair,  for  instance  ?  No  ?  Well,  get  her  one  like  this. 
But  don't  you  mention  me  to  her.  She  's  a  horror  to 
me,  I  tell  you.  Get  her  some  fruit  and  some  wine. 
Get  her  books,  whatever  she  likes.  Occupy  her.  Set 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  319 

her  doing  something  else  beside  lying  there  and  being 
angelic,  and  giving  cheerful  advice  to  her  neighbors, 
and  never  complaining.  She  tires  me,  I  tell  you. 
Feed  her !  " 

Dietz  laughed,  and  said  :  — 

"  Will  you  see  some  people,  count  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  only  to  stop  your  harping." 

Dietz  went  back  and  wrought  a  stone-rose  as  big  as 
an  artichoke,  and  breathed  the  Don  Giovanni  minuet 
into  its  petals,  while  Hugo  communed  with  his  some 
what  novel  thoughts. 

"  As  Dietz  says,  '  Why  not  ?  '  "  he  reflected  ;  "  why 
not  be  a  little  less  like  a  mummy  ?  It  is  only  for  a 
while.  It  cannot  change  the  end..  Why  not  appear 
and  surprise  them  ?  Why  not  make  some  studies  of 
my  fellow-creatures  ?  I  may  be  repulsive  to  some,  it 
is  true,  but  some  who  walk  very  well  on  their  two 
legs  are  repulsive  to  me.  Why  not  watch  the  race, 
and  find  out  what  it  is  that  women  love  ?  One  may 
be  as  harmless  as  an  old  mule,  but  one  does  n't  like 
it  thrown  in  one's  face." 

Whether  it  was  a  mere  invalid's  caprice,  or  pure 
perversity  roused  by  the  maternal  taunt,  or  docile  re 
sponse  to  Bernhard's  good  advice,  or  the  unconscious 
influence  of  a  gain  in  physical  strength,  or  a  young 
man's  sudden  desire  to  see  a  pair  of  eyes  that  had 
pleased  him,  or  all  these  forces  working  together,  he 
shortly  after  told  Lipps  to  wheel  his  chair  in  front  of 
the  house. 

"  I  wish  to  be  seen  and  admired,"  he  said  seriously 
to  the  astonished  and  delighted  servant ;  and  when  the 
countess's  victoria  went  slowly  down  the  drive,  Hugo 
took  off  his  hat  and  wished  the  ladies  much  pleasure 
with  matter-of-fact  friendliness,  and  resumed  his  book 


320  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

as  if  he  had  not  heard  his  mother's  incredulous 
"  Why  Hugo  !  "  or  caught  with  a  certain  exhilaration 
the  gleam  of  gladness  in  the  young  girl's  face. 

"  Now  what  can  that  mean  ?  "  asked  the  countess 
uneasily. 

"It  is  very  pleasant,  at  all  events,"  Gabrielle  ven 
tured  to  reply.  "  It  makes  one's  heart  ache  to  think 
of  him  always  living  like  a  prisoner." 

"  Oh,  but  he  can't  mingle  with  the  world,  it  would 
be  too  exciting  to  his  nerves.  He  is  very  difficult,  too, 
poor  Hugo  !  Very  fractious  !  But  of  course  one  has 
to  make  allowances.  I  wonder  what  he  means  by 
coming  out  there.  I  wonder  if  he  intends  to  ask  that 
man  to  take  his  ease  on  my  lawn,"  she  went  on  in  the 
portentous  basso-profundo  that  frightened  the  maids. 
"  You  don't  suppose  he  will  let  that  man  sit  there  with 
him  ?  That  man  in  the  blouse  ?  That  Mietz  ?  " 

"  Herr  Dietz." 

"  Dietz  or  Mietz  or  Pietz,  it  is  quite  immaterial.  I 
have  implored  Hugo  to  fumigate,  but  he  laughs  in  my 
face.  Why  he  does  n't  ask  a  gentleman  to  sit  in  the 
garden  with  him  is  beyond  my  comprehension.  Why 
does  he  not  ask  Lorenz  von  Raven,  or  Lieutenant  von 
Paalzow?  Why  does  he  insist  upon  grouping  him 
self  with  a  blouse,  in  a  kind  of  prince-and-peasant 
tableau?  " 

"But  he  likes  Herr  Dietz." 

"  Likes  Herr  Dietz  !  And  pray  why  should  he  like 
Herr  Dietz  unless  he  likes  him  solely  and  simply  to 
annoy  me  ?  Does  n't  he  see  the  criminal  reports  ? 
Why  should  he  desire  to  encourage  the  lower  classes  ? 
The  lower  classes  ought  to  be  kept  where  they  belong. 
They  commit  all  sorts  of  crimes  and  excesses  if  they 
are  encouraged.  Why  should  Hugo  associate  with 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  321 

immoral  people  ?  Well !  Answer  something,  can't 
you?" 

44  Have  you  ever  seen  him  well  ?  " 

44 1  saw  him  face  to  face  in  the  garden  this  morning, 
and  Hugo  actually  presented  him  to  me.  I  went  in 
and  took  some  quinine,  however,  and  inhaled  cam 
phor." 

44  You  are  surely  joking,"  said  Gabrielle  laughing. 

44 1  am  very  sensitive  to  contagion.  I  always  take 
proper  precautions.  There  is  nothing  whatever  to 
laugh  at." 

44 1  thought  that  perhaps  you  had  not  really  seen  him, 
for  except  that  he  is  too  large  and  strong  and  healthy 
and  happy,  there  is  something  Christ-like  in  his  ex 
pression.  I  have  never  seen  such  ineffable  mildness 
in  the  face  of  any  man  or  woman." 

44  You  know  that  I  never  countenance  irreverence," 
said  the  countess  sternly. 

44  Then  I  think  you  mistake  his  position,  Aunt 
Adelheid,"  Gabrielle  continued,  pleasantly.  44  He  is 
a  stone-carver,  almost  a  sculptor." 

44  Distinctions  in  blouses  do  not  exist  for  me.  I  am 
willing  to  subscribe  for  their  coffee-houses,  and  their 
public  baths.  The  Frau  Major's  theatricals  are  for 
something  of  the  sort,  the  amelioration  of  some  of 
them.  I  am  perfectly  willing  to  have  them  amelio 
rated.  But  I  am  not  willing  to  have  them  sitting  con 
spicuously  on  my  front  lawn." 

44  But  if  it  makes  Count  Hugo  happier  ?  "  Gabrielle 
said  gently. 

44  Of  course  if  you  can  oppose  me  and  argue,  you 
will." 

Gabrielle  leaned  back  and  was  silent. 

The  countess's  insensate  rage  increased  every  mo- 


322  THE  OPEN  DOOR. 

ment.  She  was  jealous  of  Dietz  because  Hugo  was 
interested  in  him.  She  was  afraid  of  Dietz  because 
she  suffered  from  a  cowardly,  morbid  dread  of  con 
tagious  disease  which  she  believed  lived  cheek  by 
jowl  with  the  laboring  classes.  Being  jealous  of  and 
afraid  of  Dietz,  it  was  the  most  natural  thing  in  the 
world,  according  to  her  logic,  to  turn  upon  Gabrielle 
and  threaten  to  disinherit  her. 

The  countess's  last  will  and  testament  was  a  docu 
ment  that  could  boast  more  action  and  variety  of  inci 
dent  than  most  modern  novels.  Only  her  attorney 
knew  how  many  times  she  had  changed  the  personality 
of  her  hero  or  heroine,  and  sometimes  a  whole  or 
phan  asylum  or  missionary  society  would  triumphantly 
march  in  and  displace  the  last  "  sly  cat."  But  the 
orphans  and  missionaries  were  upon  the  whole  less 
entertaining.  She  could  not  very  well  fall  upon  their 
necks  and  weep  maudlin  tears,  she  could  not  tyran 
nize  over  them,  and  torture  them,  and  dangle  the 
golden  prize  before  them,  now  high,  now  low,  and 
make  them  leap  and  creep  for  it.  She  therefore  pre 
ferred  individuals  to  corporations,  and  by  all  means 
that  the  object  of  her  testamentary  caprice  should  live 
under  her  roof  and  eat  her  salt. 

Some  of  her  companions  and  distant  relatives  had 
been  very  good  women,  perhaps  not  strikingly  clever 
or  courageous,  but  it  is  not  easy  for  a  woman  to  be 
actively  courageous  on  nothing  a  year.  When,  how 
ever,  she  has  a  couple  of  boys  to  educate,  or  an  in 
valid  girl  who  needs  more  luxuries  and  better  care,  it 
is  astonishing  how  much  courage  of  endurance  under 
insult  sometimes  shows  itself  in  the  most  timid  woman. 
Cousin  Marie,  for  instance,  was  neither  a  sycophant 
nor  a  toady,  but  she  suffered,  meanly  suffered,  she 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  323 

often  told  herself  with  blushes  of  shame,  from  the 
countess's  cruel  caprice,  and  was  glad  and  believed  the 
old  lady  when  she  promised  the  fortune,  and  wept  and 
trembled  when  it  was  withdrawn,  and  vibrated  be 
tween  hope  and  misery  until  indignant,  dishevelled, 
desperate,  and  hysterical  she  rushed  in  tears  to  Hugo 
and  declared  that  she  could  bear  it  no  longer. 

She  left  the  house  the  next  day,  with  swollen  eye 
lids  and  the  countess's  anathema,  while  the  only  com 
fort  the  poor  woman  carried  with  her,  after  eight 
months'  humiliation  and  bondage,  was  in  her  purse, 
and  the  remembrance  of  the  handsome  young  lieuten 
ant's  laughing  farewell :  "  Cheer  up,  Cousin  Marie,  it 
won't  seem  half  so  bad  after  you  get  away.  Here 's 
a  trifle  for  the  little  chaps,  if  you  don't  mind ; "  and 
the  trifle  was  more  than  her  eight  months'  salary. 
Hugo  was  sorry  for  her,  but  he  could  not  help  laugh 
ing,  for  he  took  life  in  the  jolliest  way  in  those  days, 
and  he  kept  a  private  list  of  the  exasperated  and 
lachrymose  females  who,  fleeing  from  the  persecutions 
of  his  mamma,  had  thrown  themselves  upon  his  sym 
pathies.  "  I  don't  like  to  see  the  poor  things  weep, 
but  upon  my  word  it  is  a  perfect  vaudeville,"  he  used 
to  think. 

Perhaps  the  ease  with  which  the  average  woman's 
smiles  and  tears  rotate,  perhaps  the  childlike  confi 
dence  and  soft  patience  of  Cousin  Marie  and  her  kind, 
had  not  exercised  a  healthful  influence  upon  the  coun 
tess  ;  and  perhaps  the  practice  of  dangling  her  last  will 
and  testament  before  needy  and  timid  companions  had 
not  served  to  elevate  her  naturally  low  opinion  of  hu 
man  dignity.  At  all  events  the  will  manoeuvre  was 
a  weapon  in  her  hands.  It  was  a  power.  It  was  an 
old  habit  as  familiar  as  her  gloves. 


324  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

In  her  angry  agitation,  she  was  now  about  to  crush 
Gabrielle  with  it,  when  a  most  unwelcome  remem 
brance  of  the  girl's  own  haughty  words  occurred  to 
her.  "  If  you  have  the  habit  of  inserting  names  in 
your  will  and  removing  them,  I  need  not  distress  my 
self,  for  you  will  surely  remove  mine." 

Baffled  and  caught  in  her  own  snares,  the  coun 
tess  glared  helplessly  at  Gabrielle,  who  turned  her 
clear  eyes  and  unclouded  brow  toward  her  and 
said  kindly :  — 

"You  look  distressed.  You  are  breathing  badly 
again.  Shall  I  fan  you  ?  Had  n't  we  better  drive  up 
011  the  hills  where  the  breeze  is  stronger  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE  great  stone  houses  grew  under  the  patient 
hands  of  the  builders ;  the  young  vines  on  the  hill 
side  grew  beneath  the  sunshine  and  the  dews ;  the 
army  of  school-boys  broke  loose  every  noon  and  scuf 
fled  and  shouted  like  mad ;  every  evening  in  the 
twilight  lovers  walked  in  the  lane  that  led  between 
the  high  garden-walls  to  Leslach ;  every  day  little 
squads  of  soldiers  marched  down  from  the  shooting 
grounds,  singing  as  merrily  as  if  war  and  its  prepa 
rations  were  a  pastime  or  a  joke  ;  men  with  bowed 
backs  and  faces  like  brown  parchment  worked  in  the 
market  gardens,  and  women  in  faded  blue  gowns  and 
bright  kerchiefs  walked  by  with  a  free,  strong  step 
and  with  baskets  on  their  heads ;  Bernhard  Dietz 
carved  his  cornucopiae  and  huge  divinities,  and  sang 
like  a  thrush,  and  did  not  think  as  much  in  the  course 
of  the  day  as  some  people  perhaps,  but  whatever  he 
thought  was  sunny  and  sweet  to  the  core ;  every 
morning  Gabrielle  rode  off  on  Sphinx  to  her  aristo 
cratic  circus,  where  she  assiduously  practiced  figures, 
and  laughed  and  enjoyed  herself  and  found  life  at 
tractive,  and  came  home  to  lunch  and  drive  and  dine 
and  go  somewhere  in  the  evening  with  Aunt  Adel- 
heid,  when  after  twelve  hours  of  the  countess,  life 
seemed  but  a  period  of  stern  discipline  and  mortifica 
tion  of  spirit ;  and  the  villa  gates  swung  open  to 
admit  handsome  carriages  bringing  richly  dressed 
women  and  gay  men,  —  in  short  a  whole  little  world 


326  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

of  work  and  pleasure  and  fashion  and  luxury  and 
idleness,  and  love  of  all  descriptions,  love  in  the 
drawing-room  and  love  in  the  lane,  revolved  before 
Hugo,  while  he,  lying  motionless  hour  after  hour,  was 
near  it  yet  remote,  the  one  still,  lonely  figure  in  the 
lively  panorama. 

Yet  he  was  steadily  drawing  nearer  to  the  world 
which  he  had  shunned  so  long,  and  he  was  learning  to 
see  much  in  it  which  he  had  never  seen  before.  He 
did  not  group  himself  picturesquely  with  a  blouse  on 
the  front  lawn  for  the  simple  reason  that  Dietz  would 
not  be  grouped.  No  argument  or  persuasion  could 
move  his  gentle  obstinacy  when  it  once  showed  itself ; 
and  although  for  the  most  part  he  evinced  a  manly 
unconsciousness  of  the  peculiar  character  of  the  rela 
tionship  between  himself  and  his  patrician  friend,  he 
refused  to  sit  and  chat  with  the  count  except  in  his 
rooms,  or  in  the  secluded  corner  of  the  garden  beyond 
the  range  of  the  villa  windows  and  the  curious  eyes 
of  the  world.  Indeed,  between  four  walls  and  with 
a  ceiling  above  him,  Bernhard  seemed  less  free  than 
when  he  could  stretch  himself  on  a  garden-bench,  and 
twirl  a  leaf  in  his  mouth,  and  look  up  at  the  sky 
through  the  tree-tops.  As  a  drawing-room  ornament, 
he  was  overgrown  and  clumsy.  Nothing  could  induce 
him  to  share  Hugo's  breakfast,  which  Lipps  brought 
out  prepared  with  new  and  skilful  devices  each  day,  to 
tempt  the  invalid's  appetite.  Only  once  did  Bernhard 
consent  to  take  a  glass  of  wine,  when  he  stood  hold 
ing  it  high  in  the  sunlight,  and  said,  "  Your  health 
and  happiness,  count !  "  with  so  sweet  and  hearty  a 
resonance,  that  it  seemed  more  like  a  potent  beiiison 
than  a  mere  form.  But  after  that  he  invariably  de 
clined  all  hospitality,  and  to  Hugo's  remonstrances 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  327 

would  simply  retort  that  it  was  not  natural;  and 
farther  than  this  his  reasoning,  or  perhaps  his  vocab 
ulary,  did  not  extend. 

Hugo's  habits,  then,  began  to  crystallize  into  a  cer 
tain  routine.  He  would  spend  the  whole  morning  by 
the  fountain  at  "  The  End  of  the  World."  Dietz  ap 
peared  at  noon,  and  the  man's  tranquillity  and  con 
tentment  were  an  elixir  of  life,  exerting  strong  and 
positive  good  effects  upon  the  sensitive  invalid,  whom, 
on  the  other  hand,  his  mother's  excessive  fidgetiness 
seemed  as  perceptibly  to  unnerve.  In  whatever  mood 
Hugo  began  his  day,  he  invariably  found  Bernhard's 
repose  restful.  He  was  no  more  given  to  morbid  in 
trospection  than  the  tree  against  which  he  would  lean, 
or  the  birds  that  sang  in  its  branches.  After  these 
quiet  hours,  Hugo  appeared  at  what  he  called  "  dress- 
parade."  He  became  visible,  accessible,  even  en 
couraging  and  inviting  to  visitors,  and  unblushingly 
frequented  the  front  lawn.  It  was  exceptional  when 
his  chair  was  not  prominent  somewhere  near  the 
house  during  the  first  hours  of  the  afternoon.  Mousey 
protested  belligerently  against  the  innovation,  and 
the  countess  frequently  inquired :  "  What  can  he 
mean  ?  "  but  the  villa  was  a  very  different  place  to 
Gabrielle,  when  every  day  she  saw  Hugo's  thoughtful, 
observant  eyes  watching  all  that  passed,  and  his  quick 
smile  —  not  always  the  most  amiable  smile  in  the 
world  —  flashing  over  his  dark  pale  face. 

Whether  the  wheel-chair  and  its  fluttering  awning 
was  behind  the  great  white  rose-bush,  or  by  the  weep 
ing  ash,  or  under  the  chestnuts,  Gabrielle  spied  it  in 
stantly  and  with  gladness.  She  approached  him  tim 
idly  at  first,  fearing  not  only  a  repulse  on  her  own 
account,  but  being  also  haunted  by  the  unpleasant 


328  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

notion  that  her  society  if  forced  upon  him  might  in 
duce  him  to  abandon  his  new  mode  of  life,  and  shun 
his  fellow-creatures  in  the  old  gloomy  fashion.  It 
was  a  somewhat  depressing  sensation  to  feel  that  with 
the  mother  she  was  a  firebrand  destined  to  kindle  at 
any  moment  a  blaze  of  wrath,  and  with  the  son  a 
Medusa  whose  passing  presence  might  cause  days  of 
stony  "dumb  starings."  She  was  therefore  greatly 
relieved  when,  a  few  days  after  his  mysterious  reap 
pearance,  she  found  him  stationed  so  near  the  carriage 
as  she  went  down  some  moments  before  the  countess, 
for  the  daily  drive,  that  even  her  unsuspicious  mind 
was  forced  to  admit  that  he  must  in  this  instance 
"  mean "  something  by  it.  Her  instantaneous  im 
pression  he  took  pains  to  strengthen  by  saying  at 
once :  — 

"  Baroness,  I  have  waylaid  you  to  ask  you  if  you 
have  forgiven  me  yet  ?  How  long  must  I  do  penance 
for  sins  like  mine  ?  " 

"  But  I  was  the  culprit,"  she  returned,  hesitating, 
and  wondering  at  the  friendliness  of  his  tone,  which 
was  now  as  incomprehensible  to  her  as  his  previous 
coldness  had  been. 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  repeated.  "  I  don't  want  justice  ; 
it  would  crush  me.  I  want  mercy,  any  amount  of  it." 
He  was  smiling,  but  his  manner  was  pleading  and 
sincere,  and  he  spoke  as  fast  as  possible,  fearing  the 
descent  of  the  countess. 

"  The  truth  is,  I  have  ill-natured  moods,"  he 
went  on. 

"  You  have  cause,"  she  said  gently. 

"  Possibly ;  but  I  assure  you  I  make  the  most  of  it. 
I  stretch  it.  And  I  had  no  cause  to  be  anything  but 
grateful  to  you.  Let  us  not  talk  about  it.  Let  us 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  329 

begin  again  —  tabula  rasa.  I  don't  know  why  you 
should  forgive  me  for  being  disagreeable,  still  forgive 
me  ! "  he  concluded  abruptly. 

"  Ah,  you  make  so  much  of  it,"  she  said  cordially, 
"  but  it  is  a  relief  !  "  she  admitted.  "  I  have  been  feel 
ing  so  anxious.  I  have  feared  to  look  at  you  lest  you 
should  disappear  again." 

"  I  wish  that  you  would  look  at  me  often  and  long," 
Hugo  returned  gravely,  "  the  longer  and  oftener  the 
better,  if  it  would  n't  be  a  bore  to  you." 

"  You  make  me  very  happy,"  she  exclaimed,  smil 
ing  radiantly  upon  him  with  a  sudden  freedom  and 
lightness  of  heart.  "  You  are  very  good  to  speak  so  ! 
You  do  not  know  how  glad  I  am,"  she  added  with 
a  warmth  and  simplicity  that  touched  him,  and  led 
him  to  rejoin  a  little  sadly  and  incredulously :  — 

" 1  make  you  happy ! "  But  whatever  else  he 
would  have  said  died  upon  his  lips,  for  the  countess 
at  that  moment  came  out,  breathless,  hurried,  and 
wearing  an  expression  of  vast  discontent,  which 
merged  into  positive  displeasure  when  she  saw  Ga- 
brielle  standing  by  Hugo's  chair. 

"  Aunt  Adelheid,"  the  young  girl  began  rashly  as 
they  drove  away,  "  could  n't  you  let  me  stay  at  home 
one  afternoon  in  the  week  ?  Or  once  in  fourteen 
days  ?  Even  Roschen  has  her  day  out." 

"  The  comparison  is  worthy  of  you  !  " 

"  But  suppose  you  should  let  me  stay  once  a  week 
with  Count  Hugo,"  Gabrielle  urged  warmly.  "Ah, 
please  !  " 

"  Did  he  propose  it  ?  " 

"  No,  it  is  my  own  idea,  but  he  looks  as  if  he  would 
let  me  stay  with  him.  I  really  think  that  he  would 
let  me,  now,"  she  added  with  evident  delight. 


330  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  You  'd  better  wait  until  he  asks  you,"  the  coun 
tess  returned  with  a  sneer. 

"  Why  should  I  be  ceremonious  with  a  chronic  in 
valid  ?  Then  I  like  him.  I  think  he  is  wonderfully 
patient." 

"  Patient !  Hugo  patient  !  That  is  news."  After 
a  while  she  remarked  :  "  He  has  every  luxury.  He 
does  not  really  suffer  much  now." 

"  The  doctor  says  that  he  does,"  Gabrielle  returned 
promptly. 

"  How  in  the  world  should  you  know  what  the  doc 
tor  says  ?  " 

"  Because  I  stopped  him  one  day  in  the  hall,  and 
asked  him." 

"  You  do  very  queer  things,  Gabrielle  !  " 

"  But  may  I  have  a  day  off  ?  Why  should  I  always 
drive  in  the  park  and  pay  visits  and  go  shopping 
and  see  the  same  people  and  say  the  same  things  ? 
Nobody  would  miss  me  if  I  should  stay  at  home,  and 
then  it  seems  to  me  there  is  nothing  more  senseless 
than  spending  hours  leaving  bits  of  pasteboard  at 
people's  houses,  and  being  glad  when  they  are  out." 

"  Pray  how  could  there  be  any  society  without 
cards?" 

"  Oh,  it  is  not  the  cards  alone.  It  is  the  waste  of 
time  and  the  fruitlessness  of  a  great  deal  of  it." 

"  When  a  girl  of  good  family  has  plebeian  tastes 
and  prefers  to  go  out  and  talk  with  masons  "  — 

"  But  I  would  much  rather  talk  with  Count  Hugo, 
and  surely  his  family  is  aristocratic  enough  to  please 
you,"  Gabrielle  retorted  with  a  laugh.  "Ah,  do  let 
me  stay  at  home  once  a  week  with  him !  " 

"  My  neuralgia  is  a  very  peculiar  neuralgia,"  began 
the  old  lady,  "  a  very  uncommon  neuralgia,  Dr.  Pres- 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  331 

signy  used  to  tell  me.  I  presume  that  it  gives  me 
more  acute  pain  in  one  day  than  Hugo  feels  in  a 
month.  And  when  you  talk  of  patience  "  — 

She  gave  Gabrielle  a  look  of  jealous  reproach  and 
suddenly  broke  out  with :  — 

"  Why  do  you  never  wish  to  entertain  me  ?  Why 
is  it  such  a  hardship  to  drive  and  make  visits  with  me  ? 
Some  girls  would  consider  themselves  very  lucky  to 
have  the  privilege  of  accompanying  me.  Hugo  looked 
very  comfortable.  Perhaps,  Gabrielle,  if  you  had  a 
particular  nerve  that  went  from  your  head  to  your 
heels,  I  mean  if  yours  were  in  a  state  of  the  most  ex 
cessive  sensitiveness,  you  might  be  more  considerate  of 
other  people's  sufferings.  I  have  always  maintained 
that  only  through  our  own  pain  do  we  learn  sympathy 
with  the  pain  of  another." 

"  But  "  —  Gabrielle  hesitated,  looked  keenly  at 
her  inconsequent  companion,  and  concluded  to  let  the 
subject  drop,  remembering  that  "  there  are  people  in 
whose  presence  one  can  praise  only  the  Emperor  of 
China."  The  countess  proceeded  to  relate  with  much 
animation  and  interest  the  details  of  all  the  illnesses 
and  indispositions  which  had  ever  had  the  honor  of 
residing  for  more  or  less  time  in  her  corporeal  frame. 
She  dilated  with  peculiar  pleasure  upon  the  treatment 
which  they  had  received,  and  the  remedies  used  to 
expel  them,  and  her  therapeutic  memories  proved  so 
entertaining  to  her  that  she  grew  unusually  amiable, 
called  Gabrielle  "Moonbeam,"  and  quite  forgot  the 
original  grievance. 

Some  days  after,  she  expressed  the  intention  of 
walking  a  little  after  lunch.  "  The  Frau  Major  thinks 
that  it  would  be  good  for  me,"  she  announced  gravely, 
and  as  if  the  idea  were  quite  novel.  Hugo's  chair 


332  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

was  in  the  chestnut  avenue,  as  the  countess,  leaning 
on  Gabrielle's  arm,  and  preceded  by  Mousey,  who 
was  not  in  sympathy  with  the  scheme,  came  toward 
him  impressively. 

"  Good-morning,  Hugo.  I  was  detained  this  morn 
ing,  and  could  not  come  to  you.  Mousey  swallowed  a 
piece  of  worsted,  poor  little  love.  I  was  so  alarmed ! 
I  am  walking  for  my  health.  Slower,  Gabrielle.  The 
Frau  Major  says  that  the  new  method  is  slow  and  reg 
ular." 

"  Ah,  the  Frau  Major  is  doctor  now  ?  "  Hugo  said 
blandly.  "  Does  she  prescribe  for  you  too,  baroness  ?  " 

"  Gabrielle  has  no  need  of  her  advice,  —  at  least  in 
*  respect  to  health,"  the  countess  answered.  "  Gabrielle 
has  no  pain,  consequently  no  sympathies.  She  is  not 
sensitive." 

"  Indeed,"  remarked  Hugo,  watching  the  young  girl 
attentively,  who  colored  beneath  his  gaze,  and  sug 
gested  :  — 

"  Like  a  clam,  or  a  jelly-fish." 

"  An  admirable  temperament,"  he  said  seriously. 
"  I  am  educating  myself  in  that  direction." 

"  You  have  no  idea  how  I  ]ove  trees ! "  exclaimed 
the  countess.  "  Gabrielle,  I  suppose  you  cannot  imag 
ine  my  feelings  about  trees.  They  talk  to  me.  I  talk 
to  them.  I  love  them.  They  respond."  Upon  which 
she  embraced  and  kissed  the  stout  trunk  of  an  old  chest 
nut,  with  an  air  of  infantile  vivacity  curiously  at  odds 
with  her  proportions. 

"  It  is  plucky,"  commented  Hugo.  "  I  don't  doubt 
it  is  stirred  to  its  roots,  but  it  controls  its  emotions 
like  a  weather-beaten  man  of  the  world." 

"Why  are  you  never  serious,  Hugo?"  she  asked 
with  a  displeased  air. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  333 

"  Because  I  have  a  light  and  superficial  nature,  I 
presume." 

Gabrielle  had  never  before  seen  mother  and  son 
together.  She  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  turned, 
and  walked  a  few  steps  down  the  path. 

"  She  proposed  coming  to  amuse  you  once  a  week," 
the  countess  said  with  a  laugh.  "  I  don't  think  you 
need  any  amusement.  Your  spirits  are  better  than 
mine." 

"  Why  did  you  not  let  her  ?  "  he  retorted  coolly. 
"  As  you  have  taken  pains  to  inform  me,  I  am  abso 
lutely  uncompromising." 

"  Oh,  as  to  that !  "  she  said  with  a  shrug.  "  But 
it  was  probably  only  a  passing  whim.  She  has  not 
mentioned  it  again.  Then  I  cannot  always  tell  when 
I  can  spare  her.  She  is  occupied  too.  Do  you  know 
we  think  Herr  von  Raven  may  win  after  all  ?  She 
has  been  very  merry  with  him  at  the  riding  lately. 
She  is  playing  her  game  very  adroitly.  Mercedes  her 
self  is  not  a  more  skilful  coquette." 

"  Neither  the  one  nor  the  other  is  a  coquette,"  he 
returned  curtly. 

She  laughed  mockingly. 

"  Oh,  Hugo  !  Tell  that  innocent  tale  to  somebody 
who  will  believe  you !  " 

Gabrielle  strolled  back. 

"  I  should  like  to  ask  you  something,  count,"  she 
began.  "  Suppose  some  women,  society  women,  should 
say  something  in  your  presence  about  another  woman 
• —  something  very  ugly,  I  mean,  what  would  you  do  ? 
We  were  discussing  it  after  the  riding  this  morning, 
and  we  disagreed.  That  is,  I  disagreed  with  every 
body  else." 

"  You  mean  what  would  I  have  done  ?  " 


334  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  No,"  she  said  quickly,  "  I  mean,  what  would  you 
do  to-day?" 

"  But  what  I  do  or  leave  undone  is  of  no  importance 
to-day." 

She  came  impulsively  toward  him. 

"  Ah,"  she  exclaimed  eagerly,  "  your  personal  influ 
ence,  your  dignity  of  character  is  as  strong  now  as 
then." 

The  sweet  conviction  of  her  tone  filled  him  with  un 
reasoning  gladness. 

"  I  never  had  any  of  those  lofty  attributes,"  he 
returned  quietly,  "  and  you  cannot  deny  that  a  man's 
influence  is  practically  stronger,  when  he  is  able  to  en 
force  his  arguments  with  deeds.  When,  for  instance, 
I  could  shoot  a  man  who  insulted  me,  or  knock  him 
down,  I  had  what  I  call  influence." 

"  Did  you  ever  shoot  a  man  ?  " 

"  No,"  he  said  smiling. 

"  And  if  you  ever  had  shot  one,  I  don't  doubt  it 
would  have  made  you  miserable  all  your  life.  I  can 
imagine  a  better  influence  than  that  kind,"  she  said 
very  sweetly,  "  and  you  exerting  it.  But  you  observe 
this  is  no  question  of  pistols,  for  one  can't  shoot 
women." 

"  I  have  often  sincerely  wished  that  one  could." 

"  Mousey,  my  gold-dog,  my  jewel,  my  treasure, 
come  and  hear  how  dull  and  pedantic  these  young 
people  are !  "  cried  the  countess  in  French.  "  Gabri- 
elle,  if  you  had  chosen  to  consult  me,  I  could  have  told 
you  what  a  man  ought  to  do.  I  think  that  my  opinion 
upon  social  questions  ought  to  have  as  much  weight  at 
least  as  Hugo's.  The  man  should  as  soon  as  possi 
ble  simply  change  the  subject  if  it  is  not  agreeable  to 
him.  If  he  defends  the  woman,  in  all  probability  he 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  335 

damages  her.  For  all  the  ladies  smile  significantly, 
and  retort,  '  Ah,  yes,  of  course  you  defend  her  ! '  So 
she  gets  one  more  rap,  and  very  likely  deserves  it !  " 
laughed  the  old  lady. 

"  That  is  precisely  what  I  heard  this  morning,"  Ga- 
brielle  rejoined  quietly. 

"  What  else  could  you  hear  from  rational  people  ?  " 
demanded  the  countess  complacently. 

"But  you,  —  what  do  you  say?"  and  Gabrielle 
turned  again  to  Hugo. 

"  I  usually  acted  in  those  days  on  the  impulse  of 
the  moment,"  he  began,  speaking,  it  seemed  to  her,  as 
a  disembodied  spirit  might  allude  to  his  life  ages  ago, 
"  but  I  believe  I  usually  had  the  decency  to  lie,  if 
a  woman's  reputation  was  at  stake.  A  man  has  to 
do  it  now  and  then  to  preserve  the  balance,  for  the 
woman's  lie  is  often  against  the  woman." 

"  You  speak  so  carelessly  of  lies,"  sighed  the  coun 
tess. 

"  If  I  believed  the  woman  guilty  of  any  indiscretion, 
I  should  certainly  have  had  no  desire  to  throw  stones 
at  her.  I  should  have  held  my  peace,  if  possible ;  but 
if  set  upon  by  a  tough  brigade  of  old  drawing-room 
gossips  "  — 

"  I  admire  your  language,  Hugo  !  " 

"  Thank  you,  mamma.  If  brought  to  bay,  and 
forced  to  deliver  my  opinion,  of  course  I  should  have 
expressed  myself  unhesitatingly  in  favor  of  the  ac 
cused." 

"  But  if  you  knew  her,  and  liked  her,"  persisted  Ga 
brielle,  "  and  believed  in  her  ?  " 

"  I  should  have  asserted  my  respect  for  her  and 
confidence  in  her  until  I  was  black  in  the  face  and  my 
hearers  were  exhausted." 


336  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Of  course !  "  cried  Gabrielle  triumphantly.  "  I 
knew  you  would  say  that." 

"  And  you  could  not  do  anything  less  wise,  Hugo. 
You  could  not  more  signally  blast  the  woman's  repu 
tation." 

"  Why  should  an  honest  man  deign  to  consider  the 
possible  inferences  of  low  minds  ?  " 

"  That  is  your  extravagant  way  of  expressing  your 
self,  Gabrielle.  If  he  is  sensible,  he  will  conform  to 
the  methods  of  society." 

"  If  society  is  so  cowardly  and  so  cruel,  it  seems 
to  me  that  it  is  still  very  uncivilized,"  retorted  the 
young  girl. 

"  Possibly,"  said  the  countess,  laughing,  "  but  your 
views  will  not  be  apt  to  transform  it.  If  the  woman 
is  young  and  pretty,  he  'd  better  not  defend  her  too 
valiantly ;  and  if  she  is  old  and  ugly,  she  's  not  at 
tacked." 

"  I  had  a  curious  experience  in  the  country  once," 
said  Hugo.  "  I  was  riding  from  a  friend's  place,  and 
had  stopped  in  a  small  town  to  let  my  horse  rest  a 
couple  of  hours.  I  saw  a  crowd  going  into  the  court 
house,  and  followed.  They  were  trying  no  less  a  per 
son  than  their  bin-germeister  for  falsifying  deeds  and 
obtaining  money  fraudulently.  He  was  a  young  man 
still,  with  a  good  face.  He  was  terribly  hard  hit.  I 
was  sorry  for  the  poor  fellow." 

"  Was  he  guilty  ?  "  Gabrielle  asked. 

"  There  would  be  no  doubt  of  that.  He  had  a 
childish,  silly  wife  whom  he  adored.  It  seems  he 
could  refuse  her  nothing,  and  she  had  insisted  upon 
living  beyond  their  means.  However,  that  is  the  old 
story.  But  I  learned  something  that  was  new  to  me 
at  least." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  337 

"  Come,  Mousey,  my  heart's  delight,  and  listen  to 
the  words  of  wisdom  of  Hugo  the  preacher.  And 
don't  run  after  that  low  dog  that  is  insulting  you  be 
yond  the  gate." 

"Because,  my  heart's  delight,"  added  Hugo  po 
litely,  "  that  low  dog,  if  I  read  his  eye  aright,  won't 
stand  much  nonsense,  and  for  once  in  your  life  you 
may  meet  with  your  deserts.  I  listened  to  the  argu 
ments  for  and  against  the  biirgermeister,"  he  con 
tinued,  "  and  was  struck  with  the  brilliancy  of  the 
prosecuting  attorney  for  the  crown  and  the  weakness 
of  the  prisoner's  counsel.  Near  me,  among  the  spec 
tators,  was  a  distinguished  attorney  whom  I  had  met 
at  home.  '  Why  does  n't  he  have  a  decent  man 
to  defend  him  ? '  I  asked.  4  If  he  were  innocent, 
that  man's  gabble  would  be  disastrous.'  The  lawyer 
laughed.  '  Oh,  he  does  n't  need  brains  to  plead  for 
him,'  he  answered.  'The  sympathies  of  the  court  are 
with  him,  the  spectators  wish  him  well,  and  the  coun 
try  jury,  every  man  of  them  sitting  there  looking  so 
superhumanly  stolid,  thinks  in  his  heart  that  the 
poor  fellow  ought  to  get  the  lightest  possible  punish 
ment.  General  sympathy  is  usually  with  a  prisoner,' 
he  went  on,  '  except  in  one  instance,  —  when  a  woman 
is  on  trial.  Then,  singularly  enough,  all  the  women 
are  clamorous  for  her  condemnation.'  I  was  sur 
prised,  but  he  declared  that  in  a  long  experience  this 
had  invariably  been  the  case.  He  said,  '  If  a  man 
is  accused  of  almost  any  known  crime,  the  mass  of 
the  people  usually  hope  that  he  may  be  acquitted, 
or  receive  the  smallest  punishment.  If  a  woman  is 
accused,  the  women  fiercely  proclaim  her  guilt  and 
declare  that  no  fate  is  bad  enough  for  her.' " 

"  It  is  a  libel,"  said  the  countess. 


338  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  it.  I  merely  repeat 
what  an  expert  told  me." 

"Then  what  earthly  difference  does  it  make  how 
common  women  who  go  to  common  trials  conduct 
themselves  ?  "  the  countess  remarked  with  airy  dis 
dain.  "  That 's  right,  my  blessing !  Stand  at  a  safe 
distance,  and  tell  him  that  he  is  a  low  fellow.  Tell 
him  that  he  's  a  snob  and  you  are  a  gentleman.  Hear 
his  little  bark  !  " 

"  But  there  is  no  way  of  not  hearing  it  unless  a 
benevolent  Providence  should  strike  us  with  deafness," 
Hugo  returned  impatiently. 

"  Did  the  attorney  say  why  the  women  are  so 
hard  ?  "  asked  Gabrielle,  who  had  stood  near  Hugo, 
listening  earnestly. 

"  He  said  that  he  had  never  been  able  to  decide 
whether  it  was  sheer  cruelty,  or  something  quite  dif 
ferent,  —  an  extreme  desire  to  guard  the  sacredness 
of  their  order,  a  jealous  sense  of  honor  repudiating 
the  slightest  stain.  I  ventured  to  say  that  according 
to  the  second  theory,  the  vestal  virgins  must  have 
felt  a  grim  delight  when  one  of  their  number  was 
buried  alive." 

"  I  am  afraid  that  they  feel  it  still,"  said  Gabrielle 
thoughtfully. 

"  When  I  was  young,"  began  the  countess,  "  we 
used  to  talk  of  things  somewhat  more  modern  than 
vestal  virgins,  and  more  sprightly  than  provincial 
courts.  We  did  not  resurrect  such  mouldy  subjects. 
Oh,"  she  screamed  violently,  "  he  will  kill  him !  O  Ga 
brielle  !  O  my  sweet  angel !  O  Hugo !  O  my  poor 
love ! " 

She  started  towards  the  scene  of  contest,  while 
Gabrielle  ran  quickly  past  her  and  gathered  up 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  339 

Mousey,  whom  the  low  snob  had  seized  by  the  nape  of 
the  neck  and  vigorously  shaken.  Mousey  sobbed  and 
spluttered  and  complained,  but  was  evidently  more 
frightened  than  hurt.  The  countess  thought  that 
she  must  faint,  but  observing  Hugo's  smile,  concluded 
that  she  would  not. 

"  Send  for  a  surgeon,  Gabrielle.  Send  Leible. 
No,  Babette  goes  faster.  Get  the  arnica.  Get  some 
bandages.  No,  stay  here.  I  feel  so  ill.  Run  for  the 
sal  volatile.  Can't  anybody  do  anything  for  the  poor 
little  suffering  dumb  doggie  ?  " 

"  He  's  not  dumb.  He  's  swearing  like  a  dra 
goon,"  said  Hugo,  who  had  taken  the  animal  from 
Gabrielle,  and  was  examining  him.  "  The  other  fellow 
has  only  chewed  him  a  little.  The  teeth  have  made 
a  good  impression,  but  they  have  not  penetrated  his 
sacred  skin.  He  will  feel  swollen  and  uncomfortable 
for  a  day  or  two,  but  if  you  diet  him,  mamma,  I  don't 
think  you  '11  have  to  take  him  to  Pasteur." 

The  tearful,  trembling,  white-faced  old  lady,  the 
tiny  yellow  dog  sitting  on  Hugo's  breast,  and  relating 
with  many  execrations  the  tale  of  his  woes,  and  de 
manding,  like  a  human  sufferer,  as  much  sympathy 
as  if  he  had  not  deserved  them,  and  Hugo  with  his 
languid,  ironical  seriousness,  were  a  curious  group. 
Gabrielle  endeavored  to  restrain  her  laughter,  but  it 
crept  into  her  voice  and  eyes. 

"How  heartless  you  both  are!  Come  to  your 
Mumsey,  precious !  " 

Mousey  snapped  at  her  and  manifested  a  perverse 
preference  for  Hugo. 

"I  warned  you,  you  fiend,"  said  Hugo  looking 
straight  into  the  dog's  eyes.  "  I  saw  the  breadth 
of  beam  in  the  other  fellow's  jaw.  And  he  was  not 


840  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

quite  big  enough  to  bear  your  insolence.  He  had  not 
the  chivalrous  sentiments  upon  which  you  usually 
speculate  with  safety.  But  he  was  generous  after  all, 
Mousey.  He  could  have  slain  you,  and  he  only 
choked  and  shook  you  and  went  his  way.  But  if  that 
dog  should  come  again,  beware !  Don't  call  him 
names,  and  tell  him  that  he  's  a  street-dog  and  a  snob  ! 
Not  if  you  value  your  life,  you  —  concentrated  es 
sence  of  sneak !  " 

The  dog,  steadily  returning  Hugo's  gaze,  listened 
to  the  low  voice,  and  when  it  ceased  slunk  down  and 
crept  whining  to  the  countess. 

"  See  how  he  loves  me  !  "  she  cried.  "  Don't  speak 
of  that  monster  to  him,  Hugo,  and  don't  talk  to  him 
so  cruelly.  He  cannot  bear  it,  the  little  maltreated, 
tender-hearted  lambkin  !  Was  he  abused  by  a  great 
ferocious  brute-beast  ?  Yes,  so  he  was  !  "  She  held 
him  against  her  shoulder,  laid  her  cheek  on  his  head, 
and  kissed  him  many  times.  "  I  will  give  him  six 
globules  of  aconite.  He  will  be  feverish  after  this 
excitement.  I  shall  alternate  with  aconite  and  bella 
donna,  and  keep  a  cold  compress  on  his  poor  neck. 
And  I  will  sit  with  him  and  comfort  him.  Come, 
Gabrielle,  you  can  help  entertain  him.  I  shall  not 
drive  this  afternoon.  Gabrielle,  countermand  the  car 
riage.  As  if  I  would  go  away,  and  leave  my  poor 
little  lonely,  sensitive,  suffering  darling  !  Gabrielle, 
if  you  had  been  watchful,  it  would  never  have  oc 
curred,"  she  concluded  in  a  rasping  tone. 

Hugo  started  and  was  about  to  speak,  but  reconsid 
ered,  and  watched  Gabrielle,  who,  stepping  forward, 
took  the  dog  under  her  arm. 

"  Shall  I  not  carry  him  for  you,  Aunt  Adelheid  ?  " 
she  said  calmly,  and  they  started  toward  the  house. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  341 

"  I  have  n't  cut  the  leaves  of  the  last  Revue  de 
Deux  Mondes.  Here  it  is.  Don't  you  want  to  read 
it  to  him?"  Hugo  called  after  them.  "  Or  the  Nord 
und  Sud  ?  "  But  the  countess  marched  on  unheeding. 

Suddenly  Gabrielle  turned,  went  back  to  the  wheel 
chair,  and  extended  her  hand  without  a  word  ;  but  her 
eyes  were  luminous,  and  she  smiled  wondrously  on 
Hugo,  and  shook  her  head  slightly  as  if  she  could  not 
or  would  not  speak,  and  her  soft  glance  lingered  upon 
his  shawls  and  cushions  and  crutches,  and  the  gentle 
pressure  of  her  hand  seemed  to  convey  to  him  a 
tender  and  comforting  message.  It  was  but  a  mo 
ment,  and  she  was  gone,  but  the  pantomime  recurred 
to  him  in  his  solitude,  and  largely  occupied  his 
thoughts,  while  the  countess  and  Gabrielle  and  Ba- 
bette  and  Roschen  and  Leible  were  one  and  all  em 
ployed  in  tearing  linen  for  bandages,  and  running  for 
rose-water  and  lead-water  and  beef-tea  and  barley- 
broth  and  oatmeal  gruel,  and  circling  about  the  cush 
ion  on  the  centre-table,  where  the  little  blinking 
black-eyed  rascal  with  his  swollen  neck  lay  in  state 
and  was  waited  upon  by  his  hand-maids.  And  if  the 
countess  could  have  had  him  serenaded  by  the  king's 
most  skilful  musicians  and  chief  singers,  or  could 
have  produced  a  troupe  of  ballet-girls  to  dance  before 
him,  she  would  have  been  better  satisfied. 

"  The  pathetic  thing  is  that  he  cannot  speak,  can 
not  tell  me  what  he  wants,  if  his  head  aches,  if  he  still 
feels  sad.  Look  at  those  eyes.  Ah,  the  sweet  mar- 
tyrl" 

She  sat  near  him  and  clasped  his  paw. 

"Hugo  may  scoff,  but  I  often  do  read  to  Mousey. 
He  likes  it,  it  is  soothing.  And  I  would  read  till  I 
was  hoarse,  if  it  would  calm  his  nerves,  his  poor,  dear, 


342  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

little  quivering  Eolian-harp  nerves  !  Is  n't  it  pathetic, 
Gabrielle  ?  " 

And  Gabrielle,  looking  at  the  old  woman  and  her 
one  love,  shook  her  head  with  a  queer  little  motion 
which  she  had  taken  up  of  late  to  express  the  un 
speakable,  and  murmured  :  — 

"  Yes,  it  is  pathetic.     Indeed,  indeed  it  is." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE  weather  grew  suddenly  warm,  which  the  coun 
tess  resented  as  a  personal  affront  on  the  part  of 
Providence.  She  announced  to  Gabrielle  —  immedi 
ately  after  one  of  the  Frau  Major's  Thursdays  — 
that  she  was  thinking  of  running  over  to  Baden-Baden 
for  a  few  days.  Wyiiburg  people  were  apt,  in  May, 
to  talk  of  running  over  to  Baden,  but  the  process  in 
the  case  of  the  countess  was  light  and  rapid  only  in 
name.  There  was  indeed  a  vast  amount  of  running 
accomplished,  but  it  was  performed  by  servants  and 
shopboys,  and  the  transportation  of  her  accoutrements 
and  Mousey's  was  nearly  as  arduous  as  the  furnish 
ing  of  a  man-of-war,  and  far  more  agitating.  The 
tubs  elected  to  make  the  slight  journey,  the  predes 
tined  easy-chair  and  foot-stool  and  foreordained  dog 
house,  together  with  other  heavy  and  cumbersome 
objects,  and  the  row  of  traps  and  trunks  which  the 
countess  deemed  necessary  to  sustain  life  amid  the 
rigors  of  a  hotel,  were  finally  conveyed  to  Baden- 
Baden  with  the  countess,  Gabrielle,  and  Mousey  in  a 
reserved  coupe,  Babette,  Roschen,  and  Leible  in  an 
other,  and  a  special  wagon  for  the  Kronfels  luggage. 

The  countess  abhorred  hotels.  She  could  not  con 
trol  strangers'  pianos,  and  it  seemed,  indeed,  that 
the  ubiquitous  Maiden's  Prayer  —  which  lurks  in 
ambush  upon  every  route  of  summer  travel  on  the 
earth,  though  sometimes  dormant  from  exhaustion  — 
thrilled  with  new  life  and  vigor  at  her  approach.  She 


344  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

was  obviously  powerless  to  prevent  waiters  and  maids 
from  running  about  the  corridors  at  all  hours,  and 
the  consciousness  that  other  people  had  wishes  and 
were  actually  ringing  bells  to  indicate  them,  filled  her 
with  incredulous  rage.  Her  high  grade  of  animosity 
amounted  to  disease.  Mousey  too  was  wretched.  His 
movements  were  more  restricted  than  at  home.  He 
had  not  a  whole  great  house,  and  all  that  therein  was, 
at  his  sovereign  disposal.  He  had  no  green  and 
shady  garden.  When  he  listened  and  yelped  at 
doors,  some  profane  foot  was  apt  to  come  out  and 
kick  him.  Neither  he  nor  his  mistress  possessed, 
even  in  their  better  moments,  the  animus  of  Abou  Ben 
Adhem  —  may  his  tribe  increase !  —  but  how  promptly, 
how  thoroughly,  and  with  what  satisfaction  their  fel 
low-men  were  ready  to  reciprocate  their  hostile  senti 
ments,  they  realized  only  in  travelling,  in  hotels,  and 
in  crowds,  where  they  found  the  huge  selfishness  of 
humanity  an  appalling  evil.  Certain  English  boys 
who  approached  Mousey  amicably  and  were  seized  by 
his  feeble  teeth  cuffed  him  soundly,  and,  what  was 
harder  for  him  to  bear,  jeered  at  the  shape  of  his 
hind-quarters.  He  suffered  from  other  disillusions, 
and  was  continually  rushing  to  the  countess  in  what 
she  called  high  fever  and  treated  with  aconite.  After 
wards  he  would  have  the  sulks,  which  she  called  lassi 
tude  and  treated  with  China. 

Gabrielle  had  reason  to  ponder  upon  some  prob 
lems  in  the  fine  measurement  of  forces.  If  the  ther 
mometer  indicated  90°  in  the  shade,  how  much  hotter 
did  a  fidgety  and  utterly  unreasonable  old  lady  make 
the  atmosphere  !  Also,  how  much  did  the  mercury 
fall,  under  the  cooling  influence  of  a  persistently 
suave  presence  !  For  Frau  von  Funnel  was  in  Baden- 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  345 

Baden,  as  guest  indeed  of  the  Countess  Kronfels,  and 
had  brought  "  dear  Sofie,  one  of  her  special  pets,  so 
sweet-tempered,  so  dainty,  so  noble,  so  sympathetic,  so 
like  a  little  field-flower." 

It  struck  Gabrielle  that  no  girl  could  be  less  like  a 
flower  of  the  field  than  Sofie  Gobert,  and  some  of 
these  adjectives  impressed  her  as  humorous.  But  she 
had  a  dawning  perception  that  society  was  not  apt  to 
painfully  strain  its  attention  listening  to  the  praises 
of  any  mortal,  and  that  the  Frau  Major's  soft  and 
brilliantly  irrelevant  eulogies  were  rarely  subjected  to 
much  comment,  but  served  rather  to  fill  gaps  in  a 
lukewarm  conversation,  with  their  womanly  and  be 
nevolent  hum,  which  redounded  to  her  reputation  for 
goodness,  and  at  least  did  no  harm  to  her  protegee. 
Gabrielle's  attitude  toward  her  was  now  one  of 
unceasing  watchfulness,  for  which  she  occasionally 
reproached  herself,  without,  however,  being  able  to 
relax  her  vigilance.  She  belonged  no  more  to  the 
Frau  Major's  Legion  of  adoring  and  docile  girls. 
Without  discussion,  without  explanation,  she  had 
gradually  withdrawn,  and  stood  aloof  with  intelli 
gently  critical  eyes,  of  whose  significant  gaze  the  lady 
was  thoroughly  aware.  Why  the  Frau  Major  desired 
her  to  marry  Lorenz  von  Raven,  Gabrielle  could  not 
comprehend ;  still  more  mysterious  was  the  new-born 
enthusiasm  for  Sofie.  Yet  she  was  fervently  thankful 
for  the  sweet  tranquillity  and  unfaltering  tact  with 
which  Frau  von  Funnel  steered  her  ponderous  and 
perverse  friend.  And  in  those  days  of  heat  and  toil, 
of  watching  races  under  a  blazing  sun,  and  staring 
at  far-off  bits  of  red  and  blue  which  meant  officers, 
revolving  round  a  white  road  that  glared  and  hurt 
one's  eyes ;  of  driving  and  dressing,  and  meeting  the 


346  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

upper  half  of  Wynburg,  from  the  Waldenbergs  down 
to  the  little  Meyers  —  Gabrielle,  weary  of  the  heat- 
lightning  of  blame  continually  playing  about  her  head, 
weary  of  Lieutenant  von  Kaven's  attentions,  and  of 
Sofie  Gobert's  jealousy,  thinking  much  and  longingly 
of  a  quiet  outstretched  figure,  a  dark  and  wasted  face 
with  hollow  eyes  which  she  had  last  seen  under  the 
great  chestnut-trees  behind  the  villa,  gravely  admitted 
that  although  the  Frau  Major's  methods  were  tortuous 
and  inscrutable,  it  was  nevertheless  a  great  virtue  to 
have  a  supple  temper,  and  unfathomable  patience. 

Meanwhile  Hugo  was  discovering  that  he  had  been 
having  for  weeks  a  species  of  companionship,  some 
times  unconscious  but  always  dangerous,  with  a 
charming  girl,  and  that  the  villa  was  dull  and  gloomy 
without  her.  He  had  heard  her  step  in  the  rooms 
above,  her  voice  at  the  casement ;  he  had  seen  her 
pure  features  as  she  passed  in  the  carriage  ;  he  had 
felt  her  presence  for  months  in  the  house  even  when 
he  had  wilfully  barricaded  his  heart  against  her,  and 
recently  there  had  been  indeed  various  moments  of 
friendly  intercourse,  brief  but  memorable  to  him.  He 
missed  her,  and  acknowledged  it  with  profound  sad 
ness,  but  calmly.  Once  it  would  have  created  a  storm 
of  rebellion,  now  it  was  pain  to  miss  her,  but  a  pain 
which  he  would  not  be  without.  He  thought  of  her 
incessantly,  picturing  what  he  would  do,  if  he  were 
a  well  man.  He  loved  her.  He  knew  he  must  love 
her.  He  had  known  it  the  moment  he  looked  up  in 
her  face  in  the  garden.  He  had  fought  against  it. 
He  had  denied  it.  Now  he  could  fight  no  longer. 
This  too  he  must  bear,  this  too  would  pass  away. 

He  was  more  than  ever  alone  now,  for  Dietz  was 
gone. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  347 

"  I  wish  you  would  go  down  and  take  a  look  at 
those  children,"  Hugo  had  said  one  day  to  Bernhard. 
"  Everything  is  beautiful  by  letter,  but  it  would  be 
a  satisfaction  to  me  to  send  my  own  envoy." 

"  I  ?  "  Dietz  returned  with  a  start.  "  I  go  down 
there?" 

"  Why  yes,  if  you  would  be  so  kind,  and  since  I 
can't,"  rejoined  Hugo,  at  a  loss  to  understand  the 
man's  delighted  yet  timid  expression. 

After  a  while  Bernhard  suggested  gravely,  "  It  will 
cost  a  mint  of  money." 

Hugo  glanced  up  with  a  surprised  smile,  but  meet 
ing  something  childlike  in  the  big  man's  gaze,  returned 
soberly :  — 

"  I  can  save  it  in  shoe-leather." 

Dietz  ruminated  again. 

"  I  don't  know  the  language." 

"  There  are  interpreters  enough.  Better  still,  take 
somebody  along  who  speaks  Italian,  and  who  would 
like  to  go." 

"  But,"  began  Bernhard  with  his  air  of  frugal  fore 
thought. 

"  I  can  save  his  expenses  in  gloves  and  cravats," 
Hugo  interrupted  quickly,  anticipating  his  objection 
with  a  laugh.  "  My  dear  fellow,  are  you  determined 
to  make  me  ashamed  of  myself,  remembering  how 
much  money  I  used  to  spend  on  nothing,  —  on  clothes 
that  I  never  wore,  on  suppers  that  nobody  ate,  be 
cause  there  was  too  much  expensive  wine  to  drink ; 
or  are  you  too  proud  to  take  anything  from  me,"  he 
went  on  gently,  "  who  take  so  much  from  you,  — 
time  and  care  and  patience  and  moral  lectures,  —  in 
short,  everything  that  I  can  get  ?  " 

Dietz  walked  away  a  few  steps,  and  when  he  re- 


348  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

turned  there  was  the  same  pleased  softened  look  in 
his  face. 

"  It  is  because  I  want  to  go,"  he  said  simply.  "  It 
seems  too  much." 

"  Oh,  you  want  to  go." 

"  I  have  wanted  to  go  down  there  for  years  and 
years." 

"  My  dear  fellow  "  — 

"  And  I  never  thought  of  being  proud,  as  you  call 
it.  I  don't  know  what  you  mean.  It 's  natural  that 
you  'd  like  to  see  those  children,  or  send  somebody  to 
look  as  nearly  as  possible  with  your  eyes.  But  I  don't 
know  whether  I  am  the  right  man,  and  I  want  to  go 
too  much  to  judge." 

"  You  are  the  only  man  I  intend  to  send,"  Hugo 
retorted  with  decision.  "  I  have  been  waiting  for  you 
to  finish  that  last  window.  You  have  been  disgrace 
fully  lazy  and  slow  with  it.  You  are  always  wasting 
your  time  on  the  maimed  and  the  halt.  If  you  won't 
go  for  me,  nobody  shall.  It  is  your  verdict  that  I 
want.  I  want  you  to  talk  with  the  poor  little  devils. 
You  can  talk  with  them  after  a  fashion,  if  you  don't 
know  Italian.  You  can  find  out  what  more  they  want 
and  if  they  like  the  things  they  have.  I  want  to 
know  how  they  look,  and  how  they  take  it,  and  what 
their  names  are,  and  who  is  getting  better.  I  want  to 
knc  who  scowls,  and  takes  it  hardest,  and  makes  the 
most  trouble,  —  he  's  my  boy  !  You  'd  be  surprised  to 
know  how  curious  I  feel,"  he  admitted  in  a  somewhat 
shamefaced  manner.  "  The  consul  lays  the  business 
documents  faithfully  before  me,  as  you  saw  the  other 
day,  I  see  the  doctor's  reports,  and  the  head  nurse 
writes  to  the  Honored  Protector ;  she  thinks  I  'm  a 
venerable  old  party.  But  I  want  you  to  report  to 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  349 

Hugo  Kronfels,  you  understand.  It  would  be  awfully 
good  of  you,  Dietz.  They  say  they  have  got  two 
nouses  with  a  garden  between.  You  can  sketch  it. 
I  want  the  dimensions  and  every  detail.  I  want  to 
know  about  the  baths  and  the  ventilation  and  the 
drains.  I  'm  great  on  drains.  It  's  a  talent  which  I 
inherit  from  my  mother.  And  look  well  at  each  little 
beggar,  will  you  ?  Find  out  where  his  pains  are,  and 
what  particular  form  of  smash  has  clutched  him.  It 
is  astonishing  how  solicitous  one  grows,  when  one 
suddenly  finds  one's  self  the  father  of  a  large  family, 
all  of  them  resembling  their  papa." 

Bernhard  stared  straight  before  him  with  smiling 
happy  eyes. 

"  There  's  a  man  I  know  who  might  go,  count. 
He  's  a  waiter.  He  's  had  to  stop  work.  His  lungs 
are  weak.  He  knows  Italian.  Perhaps  he  'd  be  glad 
of  the  chance  to  go  and  stay  down  there." 

"  Take  him  along  by  all  means.  Offer  him  his  ex 
penses  and  whatever  you  think  best  besides.  Offer 
him  something  cheerful.  Don't  haggle  with  a  con 
sumptive,  you  miser." 

"  I  don't  deserve  luck  like  this,"  Bernhard  pro 
tested.  "  No,  I  never  expected  this." 

"  And  of  course,  since  you  are  there,  you  will  have 
to  run  down  to  Florence  and  Rome,"  Hugo  added  in 
an  off-hand  manner. 

"  That 's  what  takes  hold  of  me  —  the  thought  of 
seeing  the  things  I  Ve  read  about.  I  've  got  a  reason 
for  wanting  to  see  them.  But  I  can  go  myself.  Be 
ing  down  there,  you  know,  I  could  manage  it.  And 
going  to  Florence  for  my  pleasure  would  n't  be  your 
errand,"  he  explained  carefully. 

"  I  know  it 's  not  my  errand,  although  I  could  easily 


350  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

invent  something  for  you  to  do  for  me,  and  you 
are  such  a  simpleton  you  'd  believe  me,  but  can't 
you  do  that  much  to  please  me,  Dietz  ?  "  Hugo  said 
quietly. 

Bernhard  looked  at  him  long,  —  slowly,  very  slowly 
it  seemed  to  Hugo,  making  up  his  mind. 

"  I  '11  go  anywhere  you  like,  count,"  he  finally  an 
swered. 

Hugo  held  out  his  hand  quickly. 

"  Thanks,  Dietz,"  he  said.  After  a  moment  he 
resumed :  "  You  are  the  most  obstinate  man  I  know, 
and  a  tyrant  to  boot.  I  'm  proud  of  having  my  way 
for  once  with  you.  If  you  '11  hunt  up  your  travelling 
companion,  and  make  your  preparations,  I  '11  jot  down 
a  few  notes  for  you,  and  you  might  start  to-night,"  he 
proposed  with  the  eagerness  of  an  invalid  to  set  things 
in  motion. 

Bernhard's  face  fell.  How  could  he  go  to  Italy 
without  taking  leave  of  Roschen?  And  she  was  still 
in  Baden-Baden. 

The  count  smiled. 

"  Nobody  knows  when  they  '11  come  home,"  he  said. 
"  They  may  go  somewhere  else.  My  mother  hates 
travelling,  but  once  started,  she  's  capable  of  going  to 
Jericho." 

Bernhard  nodded  gravely.  He  believed  her  capable 
of  this  and  worse. 

"  Then  I  '11  go  to-night,"  he  agreed.  "  She  '11  be 
safe  in  your  house,"  he  added  simply. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,  that's  all  right,"  Hugo  re 
turned  hastily,  and  not  perhaps  with  perfect  sympathy. 
How  a  noble  fellow  like  Dietz  could  worship  a  common, 
empty-headed  girl  like  Eoschen  was  incomprehensible 
to  him,  and  when  any  allusion  was  made  to  her,  which 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  351 

was  rare,  he  instinctively  dropped  the  subject  without 
delay.  But  after  Bernhard  had  held  his  hand  in  a  cor 
dial  farewell  grasp,  and  beamed  his  warm  parting  smile 
down  upon  him,  Hugo  was  led  to  speculate  upon  the 
nature  of  the  bond  between  these  apparently  incompat 
ible  temperaments.  After  all,  he  reflected,  it  proba 
bly  made  more  impression  upon  him,  because  he  liked 
Dietz.  In  the  great  world,  people  were  as  queerly 
matched,  for  the  most  part.  The  twin-soul  theory  was 
very  pretty  in  books,  but  in  life  a  man  seemed  usually 
to  get  somebody's  else  twin.  If  he  had  head  and  heart, 
his  wife  as  often  as  not  was  a  little  shrew,  and  many  a 
glorious  woman  was  chained  to  a  vulgar  fool.  He  re 
membered  that  his  comrades  had  frequently  filled  him 
with  amazement  by  marrying  women  in  whom  he  saw 
no  charm,  and  that  he  had  indeed  been  inclined  to  view 
their  matrimonial  ventures  skeptically,  suspecting  a 
hoax,  as  in  their  other  escapades.  It  was  as  difficult 
to  realize  another  man's  passion  as  his  rheumatism,  — 
unless  he  happened  to  offer  his  devotion  to  the  woman 
one  loved  one  's  self.  But  Dietz  adored  the  girl.  That 
was  evident.  Each  time  this  idea  presented  itself  to 
Hugo,  he  was  conscious  of  the  necessity  of  carefully 
putting  himself  in  a  receptive  condition,  before  he 
could  imbibe  it.  This  was  not  in  the  least,  he  assured 
himself,  because  Roschen  occupied  a  menial  position 
in  his  house.  Bernhard' s  personality  had  been  a  rich 
revelation  to  him,  the  man's  strength  and  sweetness 
impressed  him  profoundly,  his  affection  for  him  was 
great,  his  crippled  condition  was  in  itself  so  thorough 
a  leveller  of  petty  worldly  distinctions,  or  rather  a 
marvellous  alembic  for  the  distillation  of  the  purely 
human  quality ;  and  all  in  all  he  felt  himself  capable 
of  largely  indulgent  views  toward  any  woman  dear  to 


352  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Dietz,  —  provided  she  were  not  Rbschen.  Pie  could 
imagine  the  woman  for  Dietz.  But  Dietz  hadn't 
asked  his  advice.  He  had  chosen  for  himself  with  the 
imbecile  aplomb  of  a  lieutenant  —  and  he  had  chosen 
Roschen  with  her  vain  inviting  eyes,  her  love  of  taw 
dry  finery,  and  her  bold  vulgarity  suitable  to  a  third 
rate  cafe,  chantunt.  And  it  was  no  use  to  call  his  in 
fatuation  extraordinary.  It  was  not,  it  happened 
every  day  to  the  wisest  and  the  best ;  and  the  kindest 
thing  a  friend  could  wish  was  that  his  eyes  would  never 
look  upon  the  girl  with  less  delight  and  more  discrim 
ination,  but  it  was  a  sad  sort  of  business  when  all  was 
said. 

Hugo  found  that  there  was  always  a  breath  of  air 
stirring  in  the  poplars  and  the  pines  by  the  little  foun 
tain,  those  warm  mornings.  It  was  out  there  that  he 
saw  Gabrielle  first.  It  was  cooler  under  the  chestnut 
trees,  later  in  the  day.  It  was  there  that  he  had  seen 
her  last.  Here  he  would  lie  until  the  dusk  came  and 
the  bats,  and  long  after,  —  motionless,  invisible  in  the 
deep  shadows,  watching  the  stars  and  breathing  the 
cool  perfumes  of  the  night.  The  roses  had  bloomed 
in  profusion,  and  the  garden  was  full  of  their  fra 
grance.  That  would  please  her  when  she  came.  Be 
hind  the  villa  was  a  narrow  road  along  the  vineyards, 
—  a  branch  of  the  lane  that  farther  on  ran  between 
high  walls  and  gardens  to  Leslach.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  he  had  never  realized  what  a  vast  number  of 
lovers  there  was  in  the  world,  until  he  heard  all  the 
sighs  and  vows  and  amorous  plaints,  rising  and  falling, 
ebbing  and  flowing  in  this  little  lane.  For  hours 
he  would  listen  to  lingering  footsteps,  to  low  laughter, 
to  murmurs  and  pleadings  and  feigned  repulses,  and 
protests  lost  again  in  the  distance  as  a  couple  walked 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  353 

on.  His  hearing  was  keen,  and  it  seemed  to  him  he 
was  learning  to  recognize  some  of  these  regularly  re 
curring  simple  swains.  There  was  a  girl  with  a  fresh 
young  voice,  and  her  sweetheart  had  a  shuffling  gait. 
They  came  every  evening,  and  after  their  blissful  half 
hour  his  heavy  feet  went  in  one  direction,  and  her 
light  ones  ran  off  in  the  other  ;  but  regularly  every 
night  before  the  parting  was  entirely  accomplished  — 
it  always  took  place  with  relapses  —  the  girl  modestly 
exclaimed :  "  Now  how  can  you,  Wilhelm !  "  But 
Hugo  observed,  and  not  without  a  certain  altruistic 
satisfaction,  that  Wilhelm  always  could. 

Not  all  were  young  and  innocent  like  Wilhelm  and 
his  demure  fresh-voiced  little  girl,  who,  for  whatever 
reasons  she  met  him  clandestinely,  always  tripped 
away  from  the  trysting-place  with  a  light  and  inno 
cent  heart.  Hugo  invented  for  them  a  combination 
of  cruel  parents,  patient  waiting,  hard  work  and  pov 
erty,  and  wondered  if  Wilhelm  knew  how  blessed  he 
was  to  be  able  to  wander  up  and  down  that  lane  in  the 
starlight,  hand  in  hand  with  the  girl  he  loved.  There 
were  unhappy  couples  too,  weeping  comfortless  women 
—  or  a  man's  voice,  urging  and  begging  in  vain,  and 
meeting  in  response  only  a  flippant  indifferent  word 
or  stubborn  silence.  Hugo  found  himself  feeling 
kindly  to  all  these  shadows  of  the  night,  these  invisi 
ble  beings  with  voices,  flitting  past  him,  each  with  a 
hope  or  a  grief  in  the  heart,  and  he  wished  them  well, 
all  of  them,  the  just  and  the  unjust,  the  guilty  and  the 
innocent.  All  this  sort  of  thing  had  always  been 
going  on,  he  reflected ;  yet  once  these  wandering 
couples  would  not  have  occupied  his  thoughts  an  in 
stant  unless  he  had  chanced  to  meet  one  face  to  face, 
when  he  would  have  passed  with  the  careless  reflection 


354  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

that  policemen  and  maidservants  must  have  their  lit 
tle  recreations  as  well  as  lieutenants.  But  now  he  re 
garded  it  all  differently,  he  was  sorry  for  them.  They 
were  not  simply  common  people  idly  making  love  in 
the  lane  because  not  privileged  to  idly  make  love  in 
drawing-rooms.  They  were  human  hearts,  born  to 
suffer,  to  hope,  and  to  die.  There  was  feeling  even  in 
the  fragmentary  tones  reaching  him,  often  without 
words  and  after  long  silences. 

Night  after  night  he  remained  late  beneath  the 
drooping  chestnut  branches,  and  Lipps,  who  feared  that 
these  vigils  would  recall  the  old  dumb  mood,  was  re 
lieved  to  see  that  his  master's  face,  when  he  brought 
him  into  his  lighted  rooms,  was  tranquil.  It  seemed  to 
Hugo  that  his  eyes  were  beginning  to  see  clearer  in 
the  darkness  than  in  the  light  of  the  careless  old 
days,  and  that  the  nights  were  bringing  counsel,  from 
whence,  from  whom,  he  did  not  ask.  His  thoughts 
followed  Bernhard,  and  pictured  the  big  gentle  fellow, 
with  his  lovely  voice  and  kind  eyes,  among  the  cot-beds 
of  the  injured  children.  But  whatever  Hugo  thought, 
whether  of  Bernhard,  or  the  little  cripples,  or  the  lov 
ers  in  the  lane,  whether  of  the  past  or  the  future,  of 
life  or  death,  of  immortality  or  annihilation,  Gabrielle 
was  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  his  musings,  and  the 
link  between  the  most  widely  disconnected  themes. 
She  was  his  one  delight,  she  was  unspeakable  sorrow 
to  him. 

Staring  up  into  the  starlit  heavens,  he  felt  keenly, 
but  without  the  old  petulance  of  his  self-centred  grief, 
that  a  vast  mass  of  hopeless  misery  was  revolving  with 
our  insensible  old  planet.  Yet  was  there  nothing 
else  ?  The  shadowy,  fugitive,  hushed  voices  in  the 
dusk,  the  languorous  breath  of  the  rose-garden,  the 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  355 

tender  stir  of  birds  in  the  black  foliage  above  him, 
whispered  to  him  of  something  in  the  world  that  was 
not  misery,  while  above  all  his  own  heart  solemnly 
warned  him  that  there  was  something  stronger  than 
misery  or  happiness  or  pain  or  death.  As  he  mused 
thus,  a  woman's  sob  broke  on  the  stillness.  "Poor 
atoms  that  we  are,"  he  thought ;  "  and  life,  —  a  point 
in  eternity,  —  why  can  she  not  take  it  quietly  ?  And 
I  ?  What  have  I  been  but  a  peevish  boy  ?  What  if  it 
should  be  better  to  bear  it,  as  Dietz  says?  To  en 
dure  quietly,  with  one's  eyes  wide  open  on  one's  losses, 
to  endure  with  the  nerves  throbbing  with  pain  —  to 
endure  to  the  end?  It  cannot  all  be  purposeless. 
Unless  Cruelty  governs  the  universe,  there  must  be 
some  meaning  in  suffering."  The  little  black  book 
was  in  his  breast  pocket.  He  touched  it  with  a  kind 
of  affection.  "  Who  knows  ?  "  he  thought  wearily. 
"  Yet  what  if  it  were  better,  after  all,  to  endure, 
to  love,  to  be  a  decent  kind  of  friend,  to  use  what 
one  has  left,  to  be  patient  with  one's  broken  life  ?  " 
It  was  only  a  query,  a  thought,  but  having  come 
once,  it  came  often.  It  remained  with  him,  and  gained 
ground. 

One  day  he  received  two  letters  which  diverted  him 
greatly.  He  played  with  them,  comparing  one  with 
the  other  so  often  that  he  finally  began  to  assure  him 
self  somewhat  apologetically  that  a  man  who  lies,  day 
in,  day  out,  on  his  back  may  be  pardoned  for  making 
much  of  trifles  ;  that  when  he  was  in  active  life  he 
had  been  uncommonly  busy  all  the  time  riding  various 
horses,  drilling  his  men,  looking  into  the  eyes  of 
pretty  women,  making  visits  on  all  the  old  dowagers, 
dancing  hard,  eating  well-chosen  dinners,  drinking 
good  wines,  strolling  with  his  comrades  in  fashionable 


356  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

streets,  playing  baccarat,  and  doing  other  equally  im 
portant  and  indispensable  things.  Now,  in  his  species 
of  solitary  confinement,  deprived  of  his  legitimate 
lieutenant- joys,  his  own  thoughts  were  his  friends  or 
enemies,  and  human  character  the  one  spectacle  which 
never  failed  to  exhibit  itself  before  his  peculiar  pro- 
scenium-loge.  From  over-much  musing  upon  himself, 
he  was  gradually  working  round  to  long  meditations 
upon  others.  His  fellow  mortals  had  become  interest 
ing  to  him.  Even  Lipps's  familiar,  patient  counte 
nance,  with  its  deep  wrinkles,  had  a  new  meaning,  as 
it  bent  over  him  solicitously.  It  seemed  to  him  that 
there  was  a  large  amount  of  human  nature  in  the  let 
ters. 

One  was  from  Florence,  and  to  the  effect  that  the 
little  chaps  in  Ancona  were  doing  well ;  sketches  and 
notes  taken  as  per  order  ;  that  there  was  a  little  fellow 
with  big  black  eyes  and  a  bad  hip  who  scowled  as 
hard  as  the  count  himself,  a  fine  little  fellow  and 
plucky ;  that  the  head  nurse  was  a  kind  woman  and 
knew  what  she  was  about ;  that  it  was  a  pleasure 
to  see  things  so  comfortable,  and  the  count  was  lucky 
to  have  heart  enough  and  money  enough  to  help 
along ;  that  the  sky  was  blue  and  there  were  no  end 
of  things  to  see  clown  there  ;  that  the  waiter  was  a 
good  fellow,  and  had  got  an  easier  situation  and  was 
happy  and  would  stay  ;  that  after  taking  a  peep  at 
Rome,  the  writer  would  turn  about  and  start  for  home, 
which,  after  all,  was  the  best  place  for  a  man,  but  it 
was  a  great  thing  to  see  what  the  great  ones  had 
thought  out  and  made ;  that  he  hoped  the  count  did 
not  forget  to  do  his  walking  every  day,  for  it  was  nat 
ural  not  to  waste  what  one  had  left,  and  the  writer 
would  be  mighty  glad  to  hand  him  his  crutches  again ; 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  357 

that  there  was  no  need  of  knowing  a  language  when 
everybody  was  so  smiling  and  pleasant ;  when  he  was 
hungry  he  pointed  to  his  mouth,  and  nobody  failed  to 
understand  that ;  and  when  he  lost  his  way,  he  pointed 
to  a  name  in  his  book,  and  there  was  always  some 
body  to  walk  along  with  him,  sometimes  a  man,  some 
times  a  woman,  sometimes  a  child,  who  would  take  his 
hand  and  lead  him,  and  chatter  to  him  as  pretty  as 
music.  But  when  a  man  had  home-people  to  think 
about,  besides  something  particular  that  he  'd  got  in 
his  head,  he  would  n't  have  time  to  talk  to  foreigners, 
even  if  he  knew  how.  But  kind  they  were,  that  he 
should  always  say,  a  sweet-tempered,  sweet-spoken, 
uncommonly  obliging  folk.  The  weather  was  pretty 
hot,  but  no  more  than  might  be  expected  anywhere 
in  the  month  of  June,  besides  being  natural  and 
proper  to  Italy,  which  was  a  warm  climate.  The  let 
ter  closed  with  somewhat  old-fashioned  expressions  of 
duty  and  respect,  and  it  diffused  from  its  simple  pages 
an  atmosphere  of  affection,  common-sense,  and  invigo 
rating  good  will. 

The  other  letter  was  from  Baden,  and  informed  him 
that  they  were  having  simply  intolerable  weather,  and 
Hugo  could  not  imagine  how  she  suffered.  Her  neu 
ralgia  was  excruciating,  and  she  had  not  the  slightest 
appetite.  Neither  she  nor  Mousey  had  been  able  to 
touch  a  morsel  for  days.  Her  condition  made  as 
usual  no  impression  upon  Gabrielle,  who  was  occupied 
solely  in  amusing  herself,  dressing,  driving,  and  en 
couraging  Lorenz  von  Raven  most  pointedly.  If  she 
did  not  marry  him,  she  ought  to,  and  that  was  the 
opinion  of  most  people.  For  her  own  part,  she  knew 
Gabrielle  was  cold,  and  she  suspected  her  of  being 
designing,  and  only  wished  she  could  find  an  unselfish 


358  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

and  sympathetic  girl  who  would  be  a  true  friend.  She 
was  not  at  all  sure  but  that  Sofie  Gobert  might  be  a 
nice  person  to  go  to  the  Riviera  with  her  next  winter. 
Hugo  knew  that  she  had  remained  at  home  last  year 
entirely  upon  his  account,  and  very  willingly  of  course, 
for  she  shrank  from  no  sacrifice  which  it  was  a  mo 
ther's  duty  to  make  for  an  invalid  son,  but  he  was  so 
comfortable  now,  and  her  chest  was  so  troublesome  ! 
Sofie  Gobert  had  perhaps  not  read  so  many  books  as 
Gabrielle,  but  Sofie  was  sweet-tempered.  The  Frau 
Major,  who  knew  her  intimately,  said  her  temper  was 
heavenly  ;  and  when  a  girl  read  great  authors,  that 
is,  unexpurgated  editions,  it  made  her  strong  minded 
and  radical,  there  could  be  no  doubt  of  that.  Sofie 
had  been  driving  with  them  several  times,  was  very 
gentle  and  attentive,  and  extremely  devoted  to  Mousey. 
She,  the  countess,  had  decided  upon  nothing,  and 
certainly  was  most  unfortunate  in  always  being  de 
ceived  in  people  after  lavishing  so  much  affection 
and  every  luxury  on  them,  and  in  being  obliged  to 
change  so  often.  If  she  had  only  had  a  daughter,  she 
would  have  understood  her. 

As  for  Baden,  it  grew  more  common  every  year.  It 
was  crowded  with  cockney  English,  and  vulgar  Amer 
icans.  They  had  been  in  three  hotels  in  ten  days,  and 
each  was  as  dirty,  as  noisy,  and  had  as  execrable  a 
cuisine  as  the  last.  What  was  worse,  she  was  positive 
that  where  they  now  were  the  drains  were  defective, 
and  she  was  therefore  coming  home  immediately,  and 
would  arrive  the  following  day.  She  was  so  peculiarly 
sensitive  to  poisonous  and  malarial  influences,  she 
scarcely  expected  to  escape  without  a  fever.  The  Frau 
Major  and  Sofie  thoroughly  agreed  with  her,  and  they 
all  had  taken  quinine  twice  a  day  regularly  together. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  359 

Gabrielle  laughed  unfeelingly  and  refused  to  admit 
that  she  perceived  the  slightest  taint  in  the  atmos 
phere.  Hugo  would  please  tell  Lipps  to  tell  Leible 
to  tell  the  housekeeper  to  air  the  rooms  and  her  bed 
all  day.  Babette  had  written  to  announce  their  ar 
rival  and  give  the  necessary  orders,  but  they  were  all 
so  negligent  there  was  no  knowing  what  they  would  do, 
and  as  she  had  not  had  a  wink  of  sleep  since  she  had 
been  in  Baden,  she  hoped  that  it  was  not  too  much  to 
expect  that  her  own  home  could  be  properly  made 
ready  for  her.  The  cook  should  prepare  a  little  sup 
per  —  some  salmon  and  mayonnaise,  and  some  sweet 
breads  and  artichokes,  and  strawberries  and  cream, 
and  any  little  trifle  in  the  way  of  pastry  that  might 
tempt  her  appetite.  After  the  heat,  and  the  discom 
fort,  and  the  obnoxious  food,  and  being  in  all  proba 
bility  threatened  with  typhoid  fever,  she  needed  to  be 
built,  up,  for  she  was  simply  exhausted,  but  remained 
Hugo's  faithful,  devoted,  and  most  loving  mother. 

When  they  returned,  late  that  evening,  Gabrielle 
far  down  the  drive  watched  for  his  light,  and  seeing 
none  concluded  that  he  was  already  asleep.  Con 
cealed  in  the  blackness  of  darkness,  under  his  tree, 
he  listened  to  the  carriages  and  the  luggage-van  drive 
up,  and  to  all  the  commotion  incident  to  the  arrival, 
the  hurrying  steps  in  suddenly  lighted  rooms,  his 
mother's  imperious  voice,  and  Mousey's  bark  and  bell. 
The  whole  house  grew  alive  and  busy,  then  relapsed 
into  comparative  quiet,  as  the  countess  withdrew  into 
her  own  apartments  on  the  other  side.  Lipps  came 
out  to  report  the  progress  of  events  and  to  ask  if  the 
count  wished  to  be  brought  in.  But  Gabrielle  was 
there  behind  those  walls,  and  Hugo  felt  sleepless. 

"  It  's  too  warm  to  go  to  bed,"  he  told  the  servant. 


360  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Take  a  nap  yourself,  if  you  wish,  and  leave  me  for  a 
while.  You  always  hear  my  whistle,  asleep  or  awake." 

The  fragrant,  languid  summer  night  seemed  to 
descend  upon  him  and  fold  its  soft  wings  more  closely 
about  him.  The  house  was  dark,  except  for  a  light 
in  the  butler's  pantry,  where  a  shutter  was  slightly 
ajar.  One  long  ray  projected  itself  across  the  lawn  and 
the  trees  began  to  take  queer  shapes :  a  rotund  thuya 
assumed  a  grotesquely  nodding  head,  like  a  tipsy  friar, 
a  weeping  ash  extended  transparent  skeleton  arms,  and 
sudden  glaring  ghosts  walked  at  will  in  the  shrubbery. 
Idly  watching  these  transformations,  idly  hearing  the 
great  frog-chorus  from  the  Witch's  Cauldron  up  over 
the  hill,  he  presently  perceived  that  some  unghostly 
person  was  coming  along  the  path.  He  heard  a  light 
step,  and  was  instantly  aware  that  Gabrielle  was 
standing  near  him.  He  knew  that  it  was  impossible 
for  her  to  see  him,  but  he  had  caught  one  glimpse  of 
her  as  she  crossed  the  shaft  of  light.  His  heart 
leaped  and  sank.  He  grew  hot  and  cold  by  turns. 
It  was  strangely  sweet  to  feel  her  sudden  presence 
in  the  darkness.  He  would  not  and  could  not  speak. 
He  held  his  breath  and  waited,  too  eager  to  be  sure  of 
himself ;  as  she  paced  slowly  on,  he  feared  she  would 
leave  him,  and  an  involuntary  sigh  escaped  his  lips. 

She  started  and  stood  motionless. 

"Don't  be  afraid,  baroness,"  said  a  low  voice, 
moved  in  spite  of  its  endeavor ;  "  it  is  only  I." 

In  an  instant  she  was  leaning  over  him,  so  near 
that  her  breath  touched  his  cheek,  and  how  it  was  he 
did  not  know,  but  he  found  himself  holding  her  hands 
close  against  his  breast.  Those  two  dear  hands  in 
his !  It  seemed  to  him  he  could  never  let  them  go. 
He  held  them  fast,  and  she  suffered  it.  Still  she 


THE   OPEN   DOOR.  361 

did  not  speak,  and  he  could  not  see  her  face,  only  a 
gracious  shape  bending  over  him,  and  the  gentle 
breath  on  his  cheek  was  fluttering  and  quick.  Hugo 
had  a  whole  squadron  of  theories  of  conduct  toward 
her  ;  they  were  well  drilled,  and  he  had  confidence  in 
them,  but  they  now  basely  deserted  him.  He  kissed 
her  hands  many  times,  not  with  the  frigid  frugality 
of  demonstration  displayed  when  he  brushed  his 
mother's  fingers  with  his  mustache,  but  with  warm 
lingering  lips  and  famished  eagerness. 

She  withdrew  them,  and  after  some  moments,  in 
which  she  was  trying  to  recover  from  her  surprise 
and  the  rush  of  glad,  warm  feeling  in  her  heart,  she 
remarked  mechanically  :  — 

"  I  came  out  here  to  be  alone." 

"  And  found  me !  "  he  replied  for  want  of  a  better 
answer.  "  What  a  disappointment !  " 

"  No,"  she  returned  softly. 

In  a  moment  she  said  in  her  natural  voice,  except 
it  persisted  in  sounding  too  glad  for  her  matter-of-fact 
communications :  — 

"  We  have  seen  a  great  many  people.  We  have 
been  very  busy.  That  is  what  I  mean.  Your  mamma 
is  tired  and  ill.  It  is  not  a  sleepy  night.  I  thought 
I  would  come  down  alone  for  a  few  minutes.  The 
garden  is  cooler,  and  the  roses  are  so  sweet." 

"  I  heard  your  Noah's  Ark  disgorging  itself  at  the 
door.  No  wonder  you  are  tired,  travelling  with  such 
a  caravan." 

She  laughed  a  little. 

"How  have  you  borne  the  heat?"  she  said. 

"  Better  than  most  people,  I  presume.  If  one  is 
always  lazy,  a  little  additional  laziness  is  unimpor 
tant." 


362  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

"And  what  have  you  been  doing  all  this  long 
time  ?  " 

"  Eavesdropping.  I  have  become  an  expert.  And 
you?" 

She  hesitated. 

"  I  think  I  will  tell  you  to-morrow,  or  when  I  can. 
I  will  go  in  now.  Good-night.  I  am  glad  I  found 
you  here,"  she  added  very  softly.  She  did  not  give 
him  her  hand,  and  she  was  gone  before  he  could  reply. 

Again  the  sweet,  dense,  silent  night  closed  around 
him,  and  shut  out  everything  but  Gabrielle,  and  noth 
ing  in  the  past,  nothing  in  the  future,  nothing  in  the 
universe  was  strong  enough  to  prevent  him  from  being 
glad  that  she  had  come.  Between  dreaming  and  wak 
ing  he  felt  her  hands  on  his  breast,  and  to  the  impla 
cable  ominous  thoughts  already  hovering  near  his  spirit 
pleaded,  "  Not  to-night.  Not  yet.  You  have  pursued 
me  long  enough.  Let  me  be  happy  this  night.  Let 
me  forget." 

From  the  same  direction  in  which  she  had  appeared, 
again  he  heard  a  step.  His  heart  beat  fast.  Was  it 
she  ?  Had  she  returned  to  say  one  word  more  ?  He 
was  about  to  speak,  but  some  instinct  restrained  him. 
It  was  not  like  her  to  come  back,  and  the  step  was 
not  hers.  It  was  heavier,  yet  stealthy  and  slow. 
Hers  had  come  lightly  and  steadily  on.  This  made 
pauses,  as  if  the  person  were  listening.  If  it  were  not 
she,  it  was  immaterial  who  it  might  be.  A  servant. 
A  rendezvous.  The  lane  again.  His  interest  ceased. 
Whoever  it  was  would  have  to  pass  the  butler's  treach 
erous  light.  Without  curiosity,  and  merely  because 
his  chair  and  eyes  were  turned  toward  that  quarter, 
he  watched  a  woman  with  a  scarf  over  her  head  cross 
the  Rubicon.  He  could  not  see  her  face,  and  she  was 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  863 

wary  enough  to  take  the  danger  with  a  rapid  bound, 
but  the  tall,  well-grown  figure  suggested  Roschen.  His 
mood  changed  instantly.  It  was  as  if  a  rude  hand 
had  snatched  some  marvellously  precious  thing  from 
him,  and  left  dross  in  its  place. 

"  What  in  the  deuce  is  the  girl  prowling  about  for 
at  this  time  of  night  ?  She  never  came  down  for  the 
coolness  and  the  roses  !  " 

He  listened  with  mistrustful  attention.  "  Roschen," 
he  called,  low  but  distinctly.  "  Roschen  !  "  he  repeated 
louder.  "  I  can't  swear  that  it  's  she,  but  I  '11  risk  it. 
Confound  the  girl !  What  is  she  doing  ?  She  must 
have  heard.  She  's  running  across  the  lawn  where  her 
tread  is  lost.  She  's  going  slow  again  on  the  paved 
court.  She  's  out  the  gate.  She  's  up  the  lane." 

He  had  risen  on  one  elbow  the  better  to  follow  her 
movements.  Now  he  sank  back,  with  an  unpleasant 
sensation,  a  presentiment  of  evil. 

"  Dietz  in  Italy,"  he  thought,  "  and  I  sent  him  off !  " 

He  heard  her  footsteps,  brisk  now  and  decided, 
hurrying  in  the  direction  of  Leslach. 

But  why  should  a  man  always  suspect  evil  ?  Because 
he  finds  it  in  his  own  heart.  Still,  to  look  at  it  ration 
ally,  her  parents  lived  there.  She  'd  been  away.  She 
might  have  reasons  for  wanting  to  see  them  at  once. 
A  girl  of  that  sort  did  not  mind  going  out  at  night. 
Then  the  lane  was  quiet.  Lovers  did  n't  care  for 
other  people.  And  the  billing  and  cooing  seemed  to 
have  ceased.  His  mother  was  so  sharp  she  forced  ser 
vants  into  such  things.  No  doubt  it  was  all  right. 

Still  he  did  not  believe  that  it  was  all  right.  He 
felt  uneasy.  He  saw  Bernhard's  trustful  eyes  !  What 
was  it  he  'd  said  ?  "  She  '11  be  safe  in  your  house, 
count." 


364  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Safe  ?  Of  course  she  was  safe  !  What  a  fool  he  was 
to  work  himself  into  a  fever  about  nothing.  She  had 
rushed  home  to  see  her  mother.  At  this,  the  old  skep 
tical,  lieutenant  voice  in  him  hooted,  and  derisively 
inquired  if  he  really  thought  her  so  tenderly  desirous 
of  the  maternal  presence,  and  if  he  would  trust  a  girl 
with  that  look  in  her  eyes,  round  the  corner. 

Up  the  lane  from  the  Wynburg  side  now  came  a 
new  step,  loud  but  not  heavy,  and  which  Hugo  could 
affirm  that  he  had  never  heard  there  before,  although 
familiar  to  him  elsewhere.  It  was  a  long,  precise, 
trained  step,  the  unmistakable,  consequential  tread  of 
a  certain  type  of  military-man,  the  tread  of  the  foot 
that  never  forgets  it  belongs  to  the  Prussian  army. 
Hugo  knew  its  kind  well,  and  why  should  it  not  go 
by,  Hugo  asked  himself  with  irritation.  He  was  not 
a  detective,  or  a  guardian  of  public  morals,  or  his 
brother-officer's  keeper. 

The  step  passed  the  gates,  and  after  some  moments, 
on  the  still,  soft,  rose-scented  air  came  the  faint  odor 
of  a  cigarette,  Hugo's  favorite  brand,  and  much  af 
fected  by  the  lieutenants  at  the  Casino. 

"  I  am  hunting  mare's  nests.  If  I  were  in  bed, 
where  I  ought  to  be,  I  should  not  be  constructing  ill- 
favored  romances.  In  the  first  place,  it  was  n't  Ros- 
chen,  probably ;  and  if  it  was,  what  can  I  do  about  it  ? 
In  the  next  place,  she  may  have  nothing  whatever  to 
do  with  the  man  who  has  just  gone  by."  But  he  lis 
tened  intensely,  with  increasing  foreboding  and  with 
the  thought  of  Dietz  weighing  heavy  on  his  heart. 
Against  the  steep  hillside,  sounds  in  the  lane  below 
seemed  to  strike,  rebound,  and  travel  far  through  the 
still  air.  He  now  heard  voices,  a  conscious  exclama 
tion,  a  shallow  laugh.  "  It  is  nothing  serious,  at  all 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  365 

events,"  he  thought.  He  could  not  judge  how  far  off 
they  were,  —  the  acoustic  properties  of  that  lane  had 
already  impressed  him  as  curiously  deceptive,  —  but  it 
was  a  rendezvous  and  a  flippant  one.  He  felt  a  sud 
den  fierce  anger  with  them,  whoever  they  were.  After 
twelve  o'clock  at  night,  people  need  n't  meet  to  giggle, 
and  toy  with  each  other,  and  alarm  one  for  the  sake 
of  an  honest  man,  whose  happiness  might  be  trem 
bling  in  the  balance.  Anguish,  desperation,  passion, 
in  short  a  great  love  had  its  supreme  rights,  but  for 
vapid,  empty,  coarse  flirting,  surely  there  were  time 
and  opportunity  enough,  without  profaning  the  mys 
tery  of  a  night  like  this. 

But  Roschen  had  just  returned.  In  a  Baden  hotel, 
there  had  been  more  chance  for  her  ambitious  arts  and 
wiles  than  at  home.  There  must  have  been  a  legion 
of  lieutenants  coming  to  pay  their  respects  to  the 
ladies,  and  staring  hard  at  the  pretty  maid  in  the  cor 
ridor,  perhaps  whispering  a  word  in  her  ear.  "  What 
fools  men  are  ! "  he  thought  with  disgust.  "  I  as  much 
as  any.  But  thank  God,  I  have  n't  that  sort  of  thing 
on  my  conscience.  As  bad  perhaps  — but  not  that." 

"  I  must  find  out  who  they  are.  That  is  plain.  If 
it 's  Roschen,  she  will  try  to  slip  in  as  she  went,  and  I 
may  not  see  her,  especially  since  the  butler's  light  is 
out.  And  if  I  challenge,  she  won't  answer.  But  the 
man  I  must  see,  for  Dietz's  sake.  And  if  it  is  not  she, 
I  must  know  that  for  Dietz's  sake.  And  if  I  whistle 
for  Lipps  and  inquire  for  her,  it  will  make  a  com 
motion,  and  perhaps  she  does  n't  deserve  it.  Dietz 
does  n't,  anyhow.  So  there  's  no  help  for  it." 

With  these  thoughts  he  took  his  crutches  and 
pulled  himself  up,  a  feat  which  he  never  attempted 
without  aid,  stood  an  instant  to  steady  himself,  and 


366  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

started  out  painfully  across  the  lawn.  It  was  not  far 
to  the  gate,  but  several  times  farther  than  the  length 
of  his  daily  promenade  from  his  chair  to  the  fountain, 
which  distance  he  could  accomplish  twice  in  what  he 
called  his  good  days.  This  was  not  a  good  day.  The 
sultry  air  charged  with  electricity  seemed  to  have 
drawn  his  small  strength  from  him  and  put  pain  in  its 
place.  He  more  than  once  thought  he  should  fall  in 
a  helpless  heap  on  the  grass,  and  ingloriously  sum 
mon  Lipps  to  pick  him  up.  He  was  ashamed  of  his 
physical  fear,  his  cowardly  dread  of  falling.  "  Con 
found  the  girl !  "  he  muttered,  and  staggered  on.  "  No 
doubt  I  am  a  fool  for  my  pains.  But  now  there  is  no 
retreat."  On  he  plodded  doggedly,  compelling  his 
trembling  body  to  obey  him  to  the  utmost  limit  of  its 
meagre  provision  of  strength.  In  the  annals  of  his 
family  was  a  tale  of  another  Hugo  von  Kronfels,  who 
in  the  sixteenth  century  added  glory  to  the  name  by 
attacking,  single-handed,  a  band  of  caitiffs,  and  rescu 
ing  a  high-born  damsel  from  their  miscreant  hands. 
He  slew  them  all,  of  course,  and  married  the  fair  Ctin- 
igunde.  But  since  slaying  was  the  accomplishment 
in  which  the  noble  youth  was  most  proficient,  and  since 
his  valor  was  stimulated  by  the  presence  of  helpless 
beauty,  it  is  possible  that  in  his  historical  bravoure- 
feat,  he  actually  expended  less  force  of  will,  less  bod 
ily  effort,  and  less  simple  courage  than  his  namesake, 
who  with  no  thought  of  heroic  deed,  feeling,  in  fact, 
very  mean,  with  a  certain  mental  nausea  caused  by  the 
situation,  and  a  positive  physical  nausea  induced  by 
over-exertion,  was  now  dragging  himself  with  infinite 
pains  over  thirty  yards  of  ground,  when  no  doctor  on 
earth  would  have  pronounced  him  able  to  walk  ten. 
With  weak,  spasmodic,  faltering,  and  slow  move- 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  367 

ments,  he  finally  reached  the  gate.  "  The  girl  may  go 
to  perdition,  for  all  of  me  ;  but  if  anything 's  wrong 
with  her,  I  never  want  to  see  Dietz's  face."  He 
groaned,  not  exclusively  from  physical  pain. 

He  leaned  partly  on  one  crutch,  partly  with  one 
knee  on  the  stone  moulding,  and  worked  his  right 
hand  and  wrist  convulsively  into  the  iron  fence,  that 
he  might  not  fall,  for  his  heart  was  beating  violently 
and  there  was  a  curious  feeling  in  his  head.  Crouch 
ing  against  a  stone  post,  he  tried  to  recover  his  breath, 
but  had  not  much  time,  becoming  aware  of  the  close 
proximity  of  a  couple  sauntering  down  the  lane.  One 
dull  gas-lamp  was  burning  at  some  distance  from  the 
gates. 

"  She  shall  not  escape  me  when  she  comes  in,  but 
him  I  must  see  when  the  light  strikes  him." 

Hugo  raised  himself  again  on  his  crutches.  "  Hold 
out  one  moment  now,  and  then  collapse  if  you  will !  " 
something  within  him  cried  contemptuously  to  his 
quivering  body.  The  couple  approached.  From  the 
blackness  of  his  shelter,  Hugo  peered  toward  them. 
It  was  Roschen,  with  her  silly,  vain,  flattered  giggle. 
He  saw  her  distinctly,  saw  her  spring  back  into  the 
shadow,  heard  a  sportive  altercation,  a  man  's  laugh  as 
familiar  as  Hugo  's  own.  It  was  altogether  facetious, 
entertaining,  and  mirthful,  this  midnight  encounter. 

"  Be  careful.  We  are  too  near  the  villa.  Some 
body  spoke  as  I  came  out.  Or  I  imagined  it,  I  was  so 
flustered.  Do  you  really  think  me  prettier  than  her  ?  " 

"  Of  course.     No  end.     Miles." 

"  Oh,  I  know  you  !  "    Hugo  thought  savagely. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I  '11  have  to  believe  you,"  rejoined 
Roschen  coquettishly,  "  though  I  must  say  it 's  a  great 
compliment." 


368  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

What  the  man  responded,  Hugo  could  not  hear. 
The  two  were  sauntering  slowly  up  and  down  beyond 
the  light.  Again  he  caught,  — 

"  Must  go.  Friend  waiting.  Important.  Will 
come  sure.  Which  house  ?  " 

He  lost  the  beginning  of  the  answer,  but  heard,  — 

"  Kohler's.  Don't  make  any  mistake.  And  it 's 
only  to  talk  things  over,  and  all  you  've  promised." 

"  Pretty  little  witch.  We  '11  talk  things  over,"  the 
man  retorted  with  a  complacent  laugh. 

"  There  '11  be  a  friend  of  mine  there.  It 's  her  room," 
said  Roschen,  with  a  spasm  of  propriety.  "And  I 
wouldn't  see  you,  only  you  do  beg  so  awfully  hard, 
and  it  is  n't  easy  to  refuse  you  everything,  for  you  've 
certainly  been  very  polite  to  me,  though  to  be  sure  all 
the  young  gentlemen  were  polite  at  Baden  ;  not  that  I 
have  n't  heard  of  barons  that  liked  poor  girls  before 
now,  though  they  were  probably  an  awful  sight  pret 
tier  than  me." 

"  Fool !  "  muttered  Hugo. 

"  Prettier  ?  Could  n't  be,"  protested  the  man,  laugh 
ing.  "  Nobody  prettier.  Whole  court  nowhere.  Upon 
my  word." 

Hugo  felt  convinced  that  the  speaker  was  victori 
ously  twirling  his  moustache. 

"  Now  I  know  that 's  flattery,"  giggled  Roschen. 

"  Mean  every  word.  Such  a  figure  ! "  Here  he 
seemed  to  be  putting  his  arm  around  it.  "Such 
cheeks !  "  From  the  little  outcry  Hugo  concluded  that 
he  pinched  them.  "  Such  a  deuced  tempting  mouth !  " 
There  was  no  doubt  that  he  kissed  it. 

"  Now  I  shall  be  mad  with  you  if  you  do  that  again," 
said  the  girl,  her  voice  excited,  her  resistance  feeble. 
"  We  must  talk  everything  over  before  you  do  such 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  369 

naughty  things.  Because  I  am  a  very  respectable 
girl,  you  know." 

"Awfully  respectable,"  returned  the  young  man, 
"  and  awfully  sweet,"  holding  her  long  in  his  arms,  and 
stifling  her  protests  with  greedy  kisses. 

"Oh,"  she  panted.  "Don't.  That  isn't  fair.  I 
am  going." 

"  And  I  'm  coming." 

She  hesitated.     "  No,  you  must  n't." 

"  But  I  will.     You  said  so." 

"  Well,  are  you  really,  honestly,  truly  fond  of  me  ? 
Not  playing  with  me  the  way  young  gentlemen  some 
times  do  ?  " 

"  Dead  gone.  Awfully  fond  of  you.  Little  beauty. 
Handsome  as  a  peach.  Stony  heart." 

"  Well,  you  'd  better  not  come,"  she  said  archly. 

"  Would  n't  let  you  go  now.  Must.  Friend.  En 
gagement.  Paris  train.  Come  straight  to  Leslach. 
Find  you  sure." 

"  Then  you  must  be  very  good.  We  '11  talk  things 
over." 

"  Oh  yes,  we  '11  talk  them  over." 

Hugo  lost  a  few  hurried  sentences,  heard  some 
laughter,  some  ejaculations ;  then,  to  his  dismay,  per 
ceived  that  Roschen,  instead  of  coming  toward  the 
house,  was  running  along  the  lane  toward  Leslach, 
while  down  the  middle  of  the  road,  consciously  smiling 
and  stroking  his  moustache,  Lorenz  von  Raven  came 
striding  beneath  the  light. 

Hugo  was  about  to  call  to  him  then  and  there,  when 
suddenly  the  iron  to  which  he  was  clinging  retreated 
from  him,  his  crutch  on  the  other  side  tottered 
strangely,  and  the  whole  world  began  to  sink,  as  he 
fell  fainting  on  the  grass. 


370  THE    OPEN  DOOR. 

When  he  recovered  his  consciousness,  he  lay  a  few 
moments  stupidly  wondering  how  he  was  ever  going 
to  get  up,  for  his  whistle  was  tied  to  his  chair,  and  it 
was  evident  that  no  power  of  his  own  could  help  him. 
A  step  on  the  gravel-walk  near  the  house  and  Lipps's 
loud  ejaculation  of  terror  at  finding  the  empty  chair 
happily  suggested  relief.  He  called  faintly,  for  even 
his  voice  had  deserted  him,  and  at  the  third  summons 
Lipps  heard. 

"  Here  I  am  under  the  bushes  at  the  right  of  the 
gate,"  Hugo  called  languidly. 

"  O  my  poor  count !     O  my  poor  count !  " 

"  Don't  blubber !  "  said  Hugo  sternly,  venting  all 
his  outraged  nerves  and  sensibilities  upon  the  innocent 
first-comer.  "Just  bring  along  the  chair," 

Lipps,  fairly  sobbing  with  excitement,  obeyed. 

"  O  my  poor  count !  "  he  exclaimed,  returning.  "  On 
the  ground !  What  wretch  did  this  ?  "  and  the  man 
knelt  and  slipped  his  arm  under  Hugo's  shoulders. 

"  I  did  it,"  he  said  feebly.  "  I  was  communing  with 
nature.  Wait.  Put  me  down.  Do  you  think  you 
can  lift  me  ?  All  of  me  ?  I  am  helpless.  I  'm  a  rag." 

Lipps  knelt  and  raised  him  to  a  sitting  posture,  stood 
and  lifted  him  to  his  feet,  took  him  in  his  arms,  laid 
him  on  his  cushions,  and  after  these  three  adroit  and 
successful  movements  began  to  wheel  the  chair  to 
ward  Hugo's  balcony. 

"  Stop,  Lipps.  Don't  take  me  in  yet.  There  is  n't 
time,  and  I  'm  tired.  I  want  Fraulein  von  Dohna." 

"  O  my  poor  count !  "  groaned  Lipps. 

"  I  'm  not  delirious.  Appearances  are  against  me,  I 
admit.  But  you  go  and  get  the  young  lady  and  you  '11 
understand  later.  Knock  softly,  and  don't  wake  any 
body  else." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  371 

"  She  was  on  her  balcony  not  long  ago." 

"  So  late  ?  All  the  better.  Speak  from  mine.  Ask 
her  to  be  good  enough  to  come  to  me,  and  to  wear 
something  on  her  head." 

It  seemed  to  Lipps  that  his  master  was  very  ill,  but 
if  he  had  requested  the  moon,  the  man  would  have 
taken  proper  steps  to  procure  it,  and  therefore  with  a 
heavy  heart  he  delivered  the  message  to  Gabrielle,  who 
sat  looking  at  the  hillside  lights,  and  was  keenly  aware 
that  Hugo  had  not  yet  come  in  for  the  night.  To  her 
it  did  not  seem  in  the  least  degree  unnatural  that  he 
on  whom  her  thoughts  were  concentrated  should  sum 
mon  her.  She  stole  from  her  room  with  all  possible 
caution  and  down  to  the  lawn,  where  Lipps  met  her 
and  conducted  her  to  Hugo. 

"  My  poor  count 's  very  ill,"  he  confided  to  her. 

"  Lipps,  you  idiot,  it  is  all  right.  Go  and  get  me  a 
swallow  of  wine,  and  don't  come  back  till  I  whistle." 

"  He  says  you  are  ill,"  said  Gabrielle  anxiously. 

"  He  is  mistaken." 

Hugo  was  silent  a  moment. 

"  I  am  afraid  I  must  ask  you  a  strange  question  — 
a  brutally  direct  question,"  he  began. 

"Ask  it,"  returned  Gabrielle  astonished,  and  re 
sponding  to  the  repressed  excitement  quivering  beneath 
the  gentleness  of  his  voice. 

"  It 's  an  impertinence.  But  here  in  the  dark,  and 
to  me  who  am  nobody  "  — 

"  Ah  !  "  she  murmured. 

"  Perhaps  you  can  answer.  Do  you  —  are  you  — 
that  is,  have  you  any  special  interest  in  Lorenz  von 
Raven  ?  Answer  bravely.  Trust  me." 

"  I  will  answer  that  to  all  the  world  and  by  daylight," 
she  returned  in  a  cool,  clear  tone.  "  None  whatever." 


372  THE  OPEN  DOOR. 

"  I  knew  it,"  lie  exclaimed  with  involuntary  exulta 
tion.  "  Then  you  can  help  me.  There  is  something 
wrong.  You  are  the  only  person  in  the  house  with  any 
sense.  Roschen  is  in  Leslach  waiting  for  von  Raven." 

She  started.  "Roschen?  Impossible.  She  went  to 
her  room  long  ago  with  a  bad  toothache.  Her  face 
has  been  bandaged  all  day.  I  begged  Aunt  Adelheid 
to  excuse  her." 

"  I  wish  she  were  muzzled  and  chained,  but  she  is 
not.  She  's  roving  wild  and  free  in  Leslach." 

"  But  where  ?  " 

"  Imbecile  that  I  am,  I  can't  tell  you.  I  could  n't 
hear.  I  saw  them  both  in  the  lane.  I  did  n't  under 
stand.  I  thought  she  would  pass  me  returning  to  the 
house.  I  heard  them  plan  a  meeting.  I  never  ima 
gined  it  was  for  to-night.  I  have  n't  managed  it  very 
cleverly  to  let  them  both  escape.  At  the  end,  I  was 
—  awkward.  She  ran  off.  He 's  gone  to  the  station. 
There  '11  be  a  lot  of  men  there,  and  it  will  be  some 
time  before  he  gets  back." 

He  spoke  with  extreme  rapidity  and  she  in  the  same 
manner  replied :  — 

"  I  will  go  and  find  her  and  bring  her  home." 

"  It 's  an  abominable  business  for  you  to  be  mixed 
up  in.  But  it  would  break  Dietz's  heart." 

"Iknow"- 

"  They  said  Kohler's  "  — 

"  That 's  the  beer-garden." 

"  But  she  can't  be  there.  It 's  too  public.  Besides, 
it  will  be  closed.  And  she  won't  be  at  her  father's. 
There  least  of  all.  She  said  a  friend's  room.  Nothing 
could  be  more  indefinite." 

"  Never  mind,  I  will  find  her.  Has  she  been  gone 
long?" 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  373 

"  I  don't  know.     I  think  not." 

This  answer  seemed  odd,  but  she  had  not  time  to 
consider  it. 

"  Good-night,"  she  said,  and  started. 

"  But  Gabrielle  "  —  He  had  never  before  called 
her  by  her  name.  With  a  swift  movement,  she  was  by 
his  chair.  "  You  are  sure  you  are  not  afraid  ?  " 

"What  should  I  fear?" 

"  Ah,"  he  murmured  with  passionate  protest,  "  to 
lie  here  like  a  log,  and  let  a  woman  do  such  work  for 
me!" 

It  was  the  first  complaint  she  had  ever  heard  from 
his  lips. 

"  Hush,"  she  said  sweetly.  "  Don't  speak  so.  I 
would  do  anything  in  the  world  for  you,  and  this  is 
not  much.  The  lane  is  quiet ;  the  village  still  and 
small.  I  'm  not  in  the  least  afraid." 

"  Then  go,"  he  said  with  a  groan.  "  Go  for  Dietz's 
sake.  I  see  no  other  way.  If  any  one  can  find  her, 
you  can.  She  would  laugh  in  Lipps's  face.  And  we 
can't  expose  her.  I  don't  think  there 's  any  great 
harm — as  yet,"  he  continued  with  some  embarrass 
ment,  "  but  I  don't  much  like  the  probabilities." 

"  I  understand  everything  only  too  well,"  she  replied 
quietly.  "  I  saw  a  great  deal  at  Baden." 

"  Lipps  shall  follow  you  immediately,  and  wait  at  the 
fountain  in  the  middle  of  the  square.  He  can't  keep 
up  with  your  pace,  and  you  can  manage  the  girl  better 
without  him.  But  he  will  be  there  soon,  and  if  you 
call  from  any  house,  he  will  hear." 

"  Nothing  will  harm  me.  If  only  I  can  find  her  !  I 
shall  knock  where  I  see  a  light.  There  won't  be  many 
lights  in  a  village  at  this  time."  Suddenly,  in  a  plead 
ing  and  an  unconsciously  caressing  fashion,  she  added : 


374  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Now,  you  will  let  Lipps  put  you  to  bed,  won't  you  ? 
For  you  are  very  tired.  I  hear  it  in  your  voice.  And 
it  is  so  late.  And  you  have  been  having  adventures  out 
here.  I  will  do  everything  I  can  for  the  poor  girl  — 
and  for  Dietz  —  and  for  you,"  she  concluded  softly, 
and  went.  Hugo  blew  his  whistle. 

Taking  the  wine  from  Lipps's  salver,  he  drank  it  at 
one  draught,  then  said  to  the  bewildered  servant :  — 

"  Put  me  to  bed  as  fast  as  you  can  and  follow  the 
gracious  friiulein.  Station  yourself  at  the  fountain  in 
Leslach,  and  be  ready  to  answer  her  call.  Keep  your 
eyes  open  and  your  mouth  shut.  There  's  nothing  the 
matter  except  Rbschen  is  a  fool,  which  neither  you  nor 
I  ever  doubted.  And  I  have  fainted  once  to-night,  and 
if  you  're  not  uncommonly  quick  in  following  Frauleiii 
von  Dohna,  I  intend  to  faint  again." 

With  a  long  sigh  of  exhaustion,  he  delivered  him 
self  passive  and  silent  to  the  servant's  ministrations. 
Shortly  after,  he  looked  up  from  his  pillow  with  an 
eager : — 

"  I  've  got  him  now  !  Lipps,  you  stand  at  the  foun 
tain  and  listen.  You  will  probably  hear  a  cavalry  offi 
cer's  step.  You  can't  fail  to  hear  it  if  it  conies.  You 
go  straight  toward  it,  and  you  '11  meet  Lieutenant  von 
Raven.  Give  him  Count  Kronfels'  compliments,  and 
perhaps  it  would  interest  him  to  know  that  the  Baron 
ess  von  Dohna  is  in  Leslach  with  Roschen.  And  will 
he  be  good  enough  to  give  Count  Kronfels  the  pleasure 
of  a  brief  interview  to-morrow  morning  at  eleven? 
Now  step  out  well." 


CHAPTER  XX. 

IT  was  scarcely  a  half-hour's  walk  to  Leslach,  and 
Gabrielle  in  her  excitement  reached  the  heart  of 
the  village  in  twenty  minutes,  meeting  no  soul  on 
the  way  except  a  stout  policeman,  who  trudged  by, 
humming,  yawning,  illuminating  himself  vividly  with 
his  lazily  swinging  lantern,  and  not  burdening  his 
mind  with  superfluous  conjectures  in  regard  to  hiding- 
places  afforded  by  the  jutting  corners  of  vineyard- 
walls,  against  one  of  which  Gabrielle  shrank  as  the 
guardian  of  public  safety  passed  on  his  accustomed 
beat. 

The  village  was  dark  and  still.  An  inconsequent 
cock  was  crowing  in  a  desultory,  feeble,  and  prema 
ture  manner.  She  stood  by  Kohler's  garden  and 
looked  about.  The  place  was  ostensibly  closed,  but 
there  was  movement  behind  the  shutters.  In  the  gar 
ret  of  a  house  across  the  square  a  light  was  burning. 
Some  men  sat  in  the  dark  garden,  singing  solemnly, 
softly,  —  as  if  apprehensive  of  interference,  —  and 
with  good  voices,  each  pitched  in  a  key  independent 
of  its  neighbors,  the  after-echoes  of  their  last  chorus. 
Some  one  came  round  from  the  side  of  the  house,  and 
a  woman's  voice  said,  — 

"  Better  go  home,  boys." 

"  Can't.  Got  to  finish  it,"  replied  one  of  the  men 
with  thick  utterance.  She  laughed,  and  they  with 
maudlin  conscientiousness  continued  their  muffled  and 
impotent  chorus. 


376  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 


•• 


44 1  will  speak  to  her,"  Gabrielle  resolved,  and  walked 
toward  the  advancing  figure,  meeting  her  under  the 
lantern  which  lighted  the  fountain  and  the  great  tank, 
and  recognizing  the  factory-girl  with  the  ugly  stare. 
She  was  carrying  in  either  hand  a  mug  of  foaming  beer. 
She  gave  a  start  as  she  saw  Gabrielle,  and  stopped 
short. 

Gabrielle  looked  questioningly  at  the  beer  for  two, 
and  at  the  light  in  the  garret-window.  She  was  sure 
of  nothing,  but  chance  and  her  instinct  indicated  the 
way.  Here  was  a  woman,  at  all  events,  and  one  could 
talk  to  her. 

"  Do  you  know  where  Roschen  Bauer  is  ?  "  she  asked 
gently. 

"  Is  it  any  of  your  business  whether  I  do  or  not  ?  " 

44 1  think  so." 

44  Well,  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  she 's  sound  asleep 
in  your  big  house  down  there." 

Gabrielle  looked  steadily  in  her  defiant  eyes  and 
said :  — 

44  No.  She  is  not.  She  is  here.  Please  help  me. 
Please  take  me  to  her." 

44  You  let  me  alone.  What  do  you  mean  by  gluing 
yourself  on  to  me  ?  "  demanded  the  woman  with  con 
centrated  offensiveness,  turning  her  back  and  walking 
on,  but  taking  the  precaution  to  change  her  course. 

44 1  shall  follow  you,"  returned  Gabrielle. 

The  two  went  several  steps  across  the  silent  square 
enclosed  by  black  gables  against  a  vague  and  sombre 
sky,  the  woman  with  her  beer-mugs  in  advance,  Gabri 
elle  three  paces  behind. 

Suddenly  the  woman  stopped  with  a  coarse  laugh. 

44  Come  on,  then !  If  you  want  to  make  a  circus, 
make  it.  I  '11  take  a  front  seat." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  377 

She  turned  sharply,  and  led  the  way  in  the  opposite 
direction  toward  the  garret-light. 

Gabrielle  followed  silently,  ascended  three  steep  and 
narrow  flights  of  stairs  in  utter  darkness,  groped  her 
way  along  a  sticky  wall,  stumbled  over  brooms,  wood- 
boxes,  and  various  other  obstructions,  —  at  which  the 
woman  chuckled,  —  and  entered  a  small  room  with  a 
sloping  roof,  and  lighted  by  a  foul-smelling  kerosene 
lamp. 

Roschen  sprang  up  with  a  cry  of  consternation. 

"  Sit  down,"  said  the  woman  reassuringly.  "  This 
is  my  place.  No  bows  and  scrapes  here.  Let  her 
find  a  chair  for  herself,  or  stand." 

Roschen,  trembling,  stood  staring  at  the  baroness. 
But  her  friend,  putting  her  hands  on  the  girl's  shoul 
ders,  sat  her  down  forcibly ;  then  seated  herself  at  the 
bare  pine-table,  in  the  only  remaining  chair. 

"  Here  's  your  beer,  Roschen.  Make  yourself  com 
fortable.  Don't  be  put  upon.  People  that  invite  them 
selves  can  look  out  for  themselves." 

Gabrielle  came  forward. 

Again  Roschen,  from  force  of  habit,  rose  in  the 
presence  of  her  mistress. 

"  Sit  down,  I  say !  "  roared  the  woman. 

Gabrielle  looked  from  one  to  the  other  with  a  cer 
tain  bewilderment.  Intent  upon  her  object,  she  was 
as  yet  almost  unmindful  of  the  insults.  The  woman 
was  rough  and  aggressive  certainly,  but  what  did  that 
matter,  provided  Roschen  would  come  quickly  ? 

"  But  I  don't  care  about  chairs,"  she  said  gravely. 
"I  only  want  Roschen.  Roschen," — with  a  note  of 
unconscious  and  quiet  haughtiness  in  her  voice,  the 
voice  that  with  her  beauty  had  descended  to  her  from 
an  imperious  race,  accustomed  for  centuries  to  com- 


378  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

mand  and  to  be  obeyed,  —  "  you  must  come  home 
with  me  now.  Come  at  once,  please." 

The  girl  turned  away  sullenly. 

"  I  have  come  down  here  alone  in  the  middle  of  the 
night  for  you.  Will  you  not  come  back  with  me  ?  " 

The  girl  did  not  speak. 

"  Well,"  began  the  mocking  voice  from  the  other 
side  of  the  table,  "  is  that  anything  to  boast  of  ?  You 
wanted  to  come,  did  n't  you  ?  A  good  many  women 
have  to  walk  about  at  night,  whether  they  want  to  or 
not.  I  know  a  woman  seventy  years  old  who  starts 
at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning,  three  times  a  week, 
and  walks  five  hours  up  hill  and  down,  to  bring 
her  butter  and  eggs  to  market  for  such  as  you  to  eat. 
Drink  your  beer,  Roschen.  Don't  be  upset.  Let  her 
jaw." 

Gabrielle  turned  to  her  haughtily. 

"  WiU  you  be  good  enough  not  to  interfere  ?  I 
am  speaking  to  Roschen.  It  surely  does  not  concern 
you." 

"  Well,  I  like  that,"  answered  the  other  with  fierce 
mirth.  "  She  pushes  her  way  into  my  room.  She 
conies  where  she  's  not  wanted.  And  wiU  I  be  good 
enough  not  to  interfere,  she  asks  as  cool  as  a  cucum 
ber.  And  she  's  speaking  to  Roschen,"  imitating  Ga- 
brielle's  clear-cut  accent.  "  Well,  I  'm  going  to  in 
terfere,  as  you  call  it.  And  I  won't  stand  any  airs 
either." 

With  her  hands  on  her  hips  she  advanced  threaten 
ingly,  lowering  at  Gabrielle,  so  near,  so  long  face  to 
face,  eye  to  eye,  that  the  young  girl,  erect,  not  retreat 
ing  a  hair's  breadth,  wondered  if  a  blow  would  follow 
that  hostile  demonstration. 

"  There  's  going  to  be  fair  play,  I  tell  you." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  379 

"  Fair  play  is  all  I  wish,"  said  Gabrielle,  her  voice 
trembling  with  excitement  and  indignation. 

The  woman  stepped  back,  and  looked  keenly  at  her, 
as  if  surprised  at  the  answer,  then  said :  — 

"  Oh,  afraid,  are  you  ?  " 

"  Of  you  ?     Not  the  least,"  was  the  cold  response. 

The  woman  resumed  her  seat. 

"  Will  you  not  come,  Roschen  ?  It  is  so  very  late. 
It  is  so  strange  here.  Come  now,  and  we  will  go  qui 
etly  home,  and  we  will  not  discuss  anything  to-night, 
not  a  word.  To-morrow,  you  shall  tell  me  everything 
that  troubles  you.  I  will  be  kind  to  you.  I  will  help 
you.  I  promise  it." 

She  went  to  the  girl,  and  put  her  hand  on  her  shoul 
der,  and  looked  pleadingly  into  the  sullen  face  which, 
destitute  at  the  moment  of  all  coquetry  and  conscious 
ness,  heavy  with  disappointment,  fear  of  consequences, 
fear  of  the  overthrow  of  her  ambitious  plans,  and  the 
old  jealousy  and  envy,  seemed  to  Gabrielle  far  hand 
somer  than  ever  before,  and  with  the  frown  between 
the  large  downcast  eyes,  the  fresh  sensuous  lips  pout 
ing  strongly  in  selfish  distress,  the  rich  hair  growing 
low  on  the  brow,  the  cheeks  velvety  and  vivid  as  a 
Jacqueminot  rose,  was  like  the  face  of  a  beautiful, 
naughty  child. 

"  Go  with  the  pretty  lady,  Roschen,  and  tell  her  all 
your  troubles.  She  '11  be  kind  to  you,  don't  you  hear 
her  ?  Trot  along  like  a  little  lamb,  and  she  will  lead 
you  with  a  blue  ribbon." 

Roschen  guarded  her  obstinate  silence. 

Gabrielle  withdrew  her  hand  and  sighed.  She  had 
not  counted  the  costs  of  this  undertaking.  It  had 

O 

seemed   to  her    she  had  but  to  find  the  girl  and  all 
would  be  well.    She  had  found  her  and  was  powerless. 


380  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

The  woman  smiled  maliciously. 

"  You  see  she  isn  't  your  property.  You  have  n't 
got  any  mortgage  on  her.  She  's  a  girl  as  much  as 
you  are.  She  's  a  right  to  her  pleasures  as  much  as 
you  have.  She  has  a  right  to  her  friends,  —  yours,  too, 
if  she  can  get  them.  You  'd  better  go  home." 

"  I  shall  not  go  home  without  Roschen,"  Gabri- 
elle  declared,  her  eyes  steady,  her  voice  low  and  reso 
lute. 

"  She  's  going  to  stay  all  night." 

"  Then  I  shall." 

"  I  like  that !     What  if  I  put  you  out  the  door  ?  " 

"  I  shall  wait  on  the  stairs." 

"  What  if  I  help  you  down  stairs  —  fast  ?  " 

"  I  shall  wait  at  the  door  below." 

"  Where  you  '11  meet  him  first !  "  shrieked  the  girl, 
roused  at  last  to  speech  by  her  jealousy.  "  You  want 
him  yourself !  You  know  you  do  !  " 

"  Roschen,  you  forget  yourself,"  Gabrielle  reminded 
her  icily. 

"  None  of  that !  "  exclaimed  the  woman  brutally. 
"  There  's  no  baronesses  and  no  servants  here  this  night. 
Any  woman  that  comes  into  my  room  without  my 
asking  has  got  to  put  up  with  my  terms.  Go  ahead, 
Roschen.  Don't  let  her  freeze  you  up.  Don't  be 
bullied." 

But  Roschen  needed  no  urging  now.  A  vision  of 
Lorenz  von  Raven,  or  rather  of  his  uniform,  his  shell, 
dazzled  her  foolish  brain.  Her  deadly  fear  of  losing 
him,  her  long-repressed  envy,  burst  forth  in  vehement, 
foolish  words,  while  her  friend  rocked  to  and  fro  on 
her  chair  in  an  ecstasy  of  evil  glee. 

"  He  does  n't  want  you.  He  has  told  me  so  a  dozen 
times.  He  says  I  'in  handsomer.  He  told  me  so  to- 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  381 

night.  He  was  only  coming  to  talk  things  over.  He 
says  barons  have  often  married  poor  girls.  Every 
body  knows  they  have.  There  was  a  prince  married 
a  ballet-girl.  And  I  am  better  than  a  ballet-girl.  I 
am  perfectly  respectable.  There  is  n't  any  harm  in  it, 
if  he  does  like  me.  When  he  comes  to  see  you,  I  let 
you  alone.  When  he  comes  to  see  me,  why  can't  you 
let  me  alone  ?  " 

"  That 's  the  talk !     Give  her  another." 

"O  Roschen,  Roschen,"  murmured  Gabrielle,  ap 
palled. 

The  girl  was  sobbing  violently. 

"  And  now  you  Ve  come  and  spoiled  everything. 
You'll  tell  of  me.  You'll  do  something  hateful. 
You  '11  get  him  away  from  me.  But  he  likes  me  best, 
and  he  thinks  I'm  handsomer.  He  wants  me.  He 
does  n't  want  you.  And  now  you  've  come  to  get  him 
away." 

A  great  sickening  disgust  of  the  girl  and  her  angry, 
puerile,  complaining  insults,  of  the  bad  leering  wo 
man,  of  the  smoky  room,  of  Lorenz  von  Raven  and 
the  whole  odious  situation,  seized  Gabrielle  with  over 
whelming  force.  For  a  moment  she  was  on  the 
point  of  yielding,  of  abandoning  it  all,  of  fleeing  to 
seek  pure  air  to  breathe,  pure  thoughts  to  think,  of 
changing  her  garments  contaminated  by  that  tainted 
atmosphere ;  she  longed  indeed  to  change  her  whole 
self,  steeped  now  in  these  noxious  and  impure  fumes. 

"  You  've  tried  to  get  him  all  the  time,  and  he  likes 
me  best.  You  Ve  come  to  take  him  away,  and  it 's 
mean,  for  we  've  never  had  a  chance  to  talk  things 
over,"  whined  Roschen.  "You  can't  deny  it.  You 
know  you  want  him,  and  he  wants  me !  " 

It  seemed  to  Gabrielle   that  if  her  life   depended 


382  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

upon  it  she  could  not  answer  the  girl's  senseless  re 
iteration,  could  neither  admit  nor  deny  her  charge, 
could  not  speak  one  word  that  even  approximately 
assented  to  the  loathsome  supposition  that  Gabrielle 
von  Dohna  and  Roschen  Bauer  were  rivals  in  the  affec 
tions  of  this  despicable  man. 

"  You  are  a  little  fool,"  said  the  woman,  but  not  un 
kindly.  "  Let  up  on  that.  Strike  up  a  new  tune. 
Don't  you  know  she  'd  die  before  she  'd  answer  you 
fair  and  square  ?  Don't  you  know  you  and  she  can't 
be  mentioned  in  the  same  breath  ?  You  've  both  got 
legs  and  arms,  and  flesh  and  blood,  and  you  can  like 
and  hate  ;  you  are  both  girls  that  men  fool  about  and 
kiss  and  lie  to,  but  there 's  something  altogether 
different  about  her.  O  Lord,  yes  !  She  's  a  sort  of 
little  High  Altar !  "  She  threw  back  her  head  and 
laughed  derisively. 

Gabrielle  turned  to  her  with  a  quick  revulsion  of 
feeling.  There  was  truth  in  the  coarse  speech.  It 
fairly  described  her  attitude.  It  surprised  her  vastly, 
but  it  appealed  to  her  sense  of  justice.  She  had 
thought  all  along  if  it  were  not  for  this  person  she 
could  prevail  upon  the  girl  to  come  with  her.  She 
had  felt  only  horror  and  impatience  toward  her.  Now 
she  regarded  her  more  attentively.  There  was  hate 
and  rancor,  but  intelligence,  in  her  eyes.  And  Ros 
chen  was  too  dull  to  listen  to  reason.  The  woman 
must  help.  If  she  had  that  sort  of  divination,  then 
perhaps  she  could  be  convinced  that  one  meant  only 
good  to  the  girl. 

With  a  strong  effort  toward  the  suppression  of  her 
natural  instincts  of  delicacy  and  reserve,  and  wonder 
ing  if  she  were  really  unjust,  Gabrielle  said  gently  and 
somewhat  vaguely  to  her  chief  antagonist :  — 


THE   OPEN   DOOR.  383 

"  I  am  sorry.  And  I  will  try  to  be  fair  and  square 
with  her,  as  you  say.  It  is  true  that  we  are  both  only 
girls.  But  Rosehen,  will  you  not  come  ?  I  beg  you 
to  come.  There  will  be  a  worse  scene  if  we  remain. 
Surely  this  is  scene  enough,"  she  exclaimed  involun 
tarily. 

"  But  we  enjoy  it,"  jeered  the  woman.  "  We  don't 
have  as  much  excitement  as  you  others.  We  don't 
have  the  money  to  put  on  fine  clothes  and  drive  behind 
high-stepping  horses  down  to  our  opera-box.  We 
never  happened  to  have  a  baroness  performing  for  us 
before.  Roschen  is  going  to  stay  where  she  is." 

Gabrielle  hesitated,  and  a  score  of  conflicting  im 
pulses  struggled  for  supremacy,  before  she  gravely 
addressed  her  eccentric  hostess  :  — 

"  Will  you  kindly  give  me  a  chair  ?  I  am  extremely 
tired.  If  you  were  staying  as  long  in  my  room,  I 
would  offer  you  one." 

The  woman  stared,  grinned,  pushed  her  own  chair 
toward  Gabrielle,  dragged  a  box  from  under  the  bed, 
and  sat  down  on  it,  her  head  leaning  against  the  wall, 
her  feet  stretched  out  generously  in  an  attitude  un 
impeded  by  small  scruples. 

"  Thank  you.  Now  Roschen,  I  will  try  to  be  fair. 
How  have  I  ever  injured  you  ?  " 

"  There  never  was  one  of  your  kind  on  this  earth," 
the  woman  broke  out  impetuously,  "  that  was  fair  with 
one  of  our  kind !  Get  all  the  work  out  of  us  you  can 
when  we  are  steady,  and  when  we  are  not,  '  reclaim '  us, 
4  elevate  '  us.  O  Lord,  yes  !  I  know  all  that  gabble. 
4  There  's  so  much  good  in  the  poor  things,'  she  minced 
in  scornful  mimicry.  "  Give  charity-concerts,  and 
build  a  pretty  little  coffee-house  for  us,  and  spend  more 
money  on  the  clothes  you  wear  to  your  committee-meet- 


384  THE  OPEN  DOOR. 

ings,  and  the  carriages  you  drive  in,  and  the  suppers 
you  eat  afterwards  than  all  you  gain." 

"  I  agree  with  you  in  some  respects,"  rejoined  Ga- 
brielle  with  cool  courtesy.  "  But  allow  me  to  suggest 
that  if  you  were  in  my  room  trying  to  talk  to  a  third 
person,  I  would  not  continually  interrupt  you.  If  you 
demand  fair  play  for  Roschen,  why  will  you  not  give 
it  to  me  also  ?  " 

A  quickly  suppressed  flash  of  genuine  amusement 
appeared  in  the  woman 's  face. 

"  Fire  away !  "  she  remarked  to  her  friend. 

"You  can't  deny  he  thinks  me  the  handsomest," 
Roschen  began. 

"  I  don't  deny  it,  and  you  are  handsomer." 

"  And  you  know  he  wants  me." 

"  He  does  not  want  to  marry  you,"  Gabrielle  forced 
herself  to  say. 

The  low  reluctant  words  were  barely  uttered  before 
Roschen  retorted :  — 

"  That 's  a  lie  !     He  does." 

Gabrielle,  with  a  flash  in  her  clear  eyes,  drew  back 
quickly,  but  controlling  herself,  appealed  with  puncti 
lious  civility  to  the  tribunal  on  the  box. 

"  Is  that  fair  play  ?  " 

"Why  not?" 

"  A  lady  does  n't  tell  falsehoods." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  anything  about  that,"  drawled 
the  woman  with  ineffable  insolence.  "Then  there 
ain't  any  ladies  here.  There  's  two  girls  quarrelling 
about  a  man,  and  me  to  see  that  there  's  a  fair  fight. 
If  she  thinks  you  lie,  she  's  got  a  right  to  say  so.  You 
think  one  thing.  She  thinks  another.  Nothing  is 
proved  either  way.  I  rather  think  you  '11  have  to 
bear  it." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  385 

Gabrielle  reflected. 

"  Very  well,  I  will  bear  it.  Roschen,  let  me  assure 
you  that  you  are  mistaken.  I  am  telling  you  the  truth. 
There  is  some  terrible  misunderstanding.  But  trust 
me.  Try  to  believe  that  I  am  not  your  enemy.  In 
deed,  indeed,  I  am  not.  It  is  all  false  and  dangerous 
and  wicked.  Don't  think  of  it.  Let  us  come  away 
from  it.  I  am  sure  you  have  meant  no  harm.  But 
think  of  your  friend  who  is  away,  —  the  kindest,  best, 
sweetest  soul,  —  he  will  be  coming  home  soon,  and  he 
will  know  how  to  take  care  of  you." 

At  this  prospect  Roschen  began  to  whimper. 

"Oh,  come  now,  don't  pile  on  the  agony.  Don't 
worry  her  with  your  sermons.  Your  kind  changes  its 
mind  now  and  then,  does  n't  it  ?  Flirts  with  one  man, 
likes  another,  and  marries  a  third  for  his  money?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Then  it  ain't  any  worse  in  her  than  it  is  in  a  girl 
with  a  handle  to  her  name  ?  " 

"  Certainly  not.  But  when  one  thinks  of  Bernhard 
Dietz,  and "  —  she  faltered,  she  could  not  speak  von 
Raven's  name,  "  a  man  not  worthy  to  wipe  the  dust 
from  his  shoes  "  — 

"  Oh,  well,  that 's  all  according  to  taste,"  remarked 
the  woman  impartially.  "  Dietz  is  n't  a  bad  fellow,  if 
he  is  a  fool  in  some  things.  But  she  's  got  the  right 
to  choose,  to  change  her  mind,  to  play  fast  and  loose, 
like  your  kind,  —  to  go  to  the  devil  if  she  pleases. 
That 's  where  I  stand." 

"  A  right,  do  you  say  ?  It  is  folly  to  discuss  it. 
There  is  never  any  right  in  treachery." 

"  But  I  have  n't  done  anything  wrong,"  the  girl 
broke  in,  petulant  and  frightened.  "  You  talk  as  if  I 
were  somebody  else.  Everybody  knows  Roschen  Bauer 


386  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

is  perfectly  respectable.  Bernliard  himself  would  n't 
have  a  right  to  blame  me  if  I  should  change  my  mind. 
Other  girls  have  married  barons." 

"  You  have  known  Bernhard  so  long,"  pleaded  Ga- 
brielle  patiently.  "  He  has  been  so  good  to  you." 

"  All  the  men  are  good  to  me." 

"  He  loves  you  so." 

"  Other  men  like  me  too." 

"  You  have  been  promised  to  him  years  and  years.'* 

"  I  was  too  young  to  know  my  own  mind." 

"  But  why,  why  is  it  ? "  persisted  Gabrielle  sor 
rowfully. 

"  Oh,  what  's  the  use !  "  cried  the  girl  irritably. 
"  I  'm  tired  of  it  all.  I  hate  work.  I  've  had  to  work 
all  my  life.  I  should  have  to  work  with  Bernhard. 
I  don't  say  there  's  anything  wrong  with  Bernhard. 
But  he  's  tiresome.  I  hate  to  be  shut  up.  I  want  to 
see  the  world.  I  want  to  dance,  and  sing,  and  go  to 
big  places  where  there  are  lights  and  people.  I  want 
to  be  gay  and  enjoy  myself.  I  want  to  drive  in  a 
carriage  like  you.  I  want  to  wear  handsome  clothes 
like  yours.  He  would  give  me  such  things,  if  you 
would  n't  take  him  away  from  me.  And  Bernhard 
would  get  over  it.  Why  should  n't  I  enjoy  myself  ? 
It 's  my  nature.  Why  should  n't  I  have  things  that 
I  want?" 

Gabrielle's  heart  sank  as  she  listened  to  these  sulky 
sentences  jerked  out  unwillingly  one  by  one ;  but  was 
there  not  a  familiar  strain  in  them  ?  Was  not  this 
miserable,  sordid,  fickle,  loveless  creed  practically  the 
same  as  what  Mercedes  von  Waldenberg  had  laugh 
ingly  professed,  with  variations,  indeed,  and  softened 
by  her  grace  and  her  humor,  but  similar  in  its  gen 
eral  tenor  ?  And  Mercedes  was  clever,  with  every 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  387 

advantage  of  worldly  training  and  education.  Ga- 
brielle  was  attached  to  her,  and  believed  in  her  in  spite 
of  her  own  words.  Could  one,  then,  be  hard  and 
stern  with  this  senseless,  deluded  girl  ?  Moved  by  a 
great  compassion,  Gabrielle  began  :  — 

44  This  is  all  very  sad,  but  it 's  not  too  late  to  clear 
away  the  misunderstandings.  There  are  things  one 
does  n't  talk  about,  but  "  — 

"  Of  course,"  sneered  the  woman.  "  Did  n't  I  tell 
you  so  ?  You  '11  give  bread  when  you  have  eaten  all 
you  want,  but  you  'd  die  before  you  'd  give  a  word 
from  the  inside  of  you  to  such  as  us." 

"  But,"  continued  Gabrielle,  ignoring  the  interrup 
tion  and  going  on  determinedly,  "Lieutenant  von 
Raven  deserves  no  consideration  at  this  moment.  He 
formally  proposed  to  me  this  morning  at  Baden." 

Roschen  gave  a  cry  of  rage. 

"  And  he  has  frequently  discussed  his  intentions 
with  the  Countess  Kronfels.  Any  man  who  would 
seek  me  as  he  did  this  morning  and  you  this  even 
ing  is  unworthy  of  either  of  us,  or  any  decent  woman. 
Now  will  you  come  home  with  me  ?  " 

"  But  you  ?    What  did  you  say  ?  " 

44 1  refused  him." 

44  You  did  n't  want  him  ?  "  gasped  the  girl  incred 
ulously. 

44  No." 

44  Oh,  how  do  I  know  that  it 's  true  ?  How  do  I 
know?" 

44 1  have  nothing  better  than  my  simple  statement 
to  convince  you.  But  if  you  will  have  patience  till 
to-morrow,  Count  Kronfels,  who  saw  and  heard  Lieu 
tenant  von  Raven  in  the  lane  with  you,  and  who 
knows  his  attitude  toward  me,  will  give  you  some 


388  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

proofs,  I  am  sure."  She  spoke  soothingly  and  stood 
by  Roschen  as  she  had  frequently  during  the  even 
ing,  gazing  at  her  earnestly,  pleadingly,  compassion 
ately. 

The  girl  burst  into  tears. 

"  It  's  your  money,  then,"  she  declared.  "  If  I  had 
it  he  would  n't  look  at  you." 

"  That  's  the  right  kind  of  talk.  That  's  hitting 
the  nail  on  the  head,"  said  the  woman,  from  the  dor 
mer  window  where  she  had  frequently  gone  to  watch 
a  mysterious  man  standing  motionless  by  the  fountain. 
Now  she  saw  two  men,  and  one  had  square  military 
shoulders.  "  Hm  !  "  she  muttered. 

Gabrielle  went  back  to  her  place  with  a  sense  of 
utter  defeat.  Anything  more  exhausting  and  more 
loathsome  than  this  struggle,  she  could  not  imagine, 
unless  Lorenz  von  Raven  should  walk  in  that  door. 
This  impending  calamity  led  her  to  turn  to  the  woman 
with  an  imploring  — 

"  Help  me.     Help  Roschen." 

"Me?" 

"  You.     You  can.     She  won't  listen  to  me." 

"  No.  She  's  listening  for  somebody  else,"  returned 
the  woman  with  a  singularly  clear  glance  of  intelli 
gence  at  the  baroness,  and  a  derisive  shrug  at  Ros- 
chen's  imbecility.  Then,  as  if  repenting  her  momen 
tary  abandonment  of  her  colors,  she  added  doggedly : 

"  But  she  's  got  a  right  to." 

"  Why  do  you  always  say  that  ?  "  demanded  Ga 
brielle  indignantly.  "  You  know  better." 

"  Oh,  you  want  to  have  it  out  with  me,  do  you  ? 
Come  on  then.  You  '11  find  me  primed." 

"  Why  do  you  help  her  do  wrong  ?  You  are  older. 
You  know  what  you  are  doing.  It  is  wicked." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  389 

"  I  have  told  her  she  was  a  little  fool.  But  I  say 
she  has  a  right  to  be  if  she  wants  to.  It  is  nobody's 
business.  Least  of  all  yours/' 

"  Pardon  me.     It  is  mine." 

"  Because  it  makes  you  mad  to  have  a  maid  mixed 
up  in  your  affairs.  You  're  too  mad  to  take  him  now. 
You  're  too  proud.  But  marry  her  to  Dietz,  and  then 
you  '11  shut  your  eyes,  and  forgive  your  baron.  I  mean 
she  shall  have  her  chance.  You  mean  she  shan't." 

"  Yes,  that  's  what  she  means,"  groaned  Roschen. 

"  No,  no,  a  thousand  times  no,"  cried  Gabrielle 
with  horror,  and  not  glancing  at  the  feebler  accuser. 
"  And  you  do  believe  me.  I  see  it  in  your  eyes.  You 
believe  me  in  spite  of  yourself.  It  is  because  she  's 
a  girl  —  a  girl  like  me  in  danger  —  that  I  am  here 
to  help  her.  Count  Kronfels  sent  me.  He  wants  to 
help  her.  Herr  Dietz  is  his  friend  and  far  away.  It 
is  Count  Kronfels  who  is  protecting  her  this  moment. 
I  am  only  his  messenger.  He  will  know  what  to  do 
to-morrow.  And  to-night  I  will  not  leave  her  unless 
safe  in  her  room  in  the  villa.  If  Count  Kronfels  had 
not  cared,  had  not  been  large-hearted  and  loyal  to  his 
friend,  do  you  not  see  "  — 

She  faltered,  her  voice  broke,  she  turned  away,  the 
words  died  on  her  lips. 

"  The  cripple,"  said  the  woman  slowly  with  neither 
malice  nor  apparent  sympathy. 

"  Yes  he  is  a  cripple,  but  his  heart  is  not  crippled, 
and  the  man  who  has  made  all  this  trouble,  his  soul  is 
stunted  and  deformed.  He  is  nothing  to  me.  He 
never  was,  never  for  one  instant.  You  must  believe 
me.  I  am  speaking  solemnly  and  sacredly.  And 
now  I  will  never  see  him  again  if  I  can  help  it.  He 
is  worthless." 


390  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Her  low  voice  vibrated  with  icy  scorn. 

"  Now  that  's  an  awful  pity,"  remarked  the  woman 
with  venomous  emphasis.  "  For  I  'm  sorry  to  say  I 
do  believe  you.  I  've  lost  the  game.  She  "  —  point 
ing  her  thumb  contemptuously  at  Roschen,  "  said  you 
wanted  him.  She  has  told  me  so  all  along.  She  said 
it  was  a  neck-and-neck  race.  And  I  was  waiting  to 
see  you  beaten." 

"  You  have  been  deliberately  trying  to  hurt  me  ?  " 

"  That  's  about  it." 

"  Why  do  you  hate  me  ?  I  wanted  to  ask  you  that 
long  ago." 

The  woman  looked  at  the  fair,  high-bred  girl  stand 
ing  there  in  a  gown  far  simpler  than  Roschen' a,  looked 
with  lingering  scrutiny  at  the  lovely  face  to  which 
this  strange  and  trying  night  had  lent  an  unusual  pal 
lor,  at  the  limpid,  wistful  eyes  fixed  steadily  upon  her 
own,  felt  the  nameless  grace  of  purity  and  innocent 
daring,  of  the  whole  maidenly  presence,  and  threw 
herself  back  against  the  wall. 

44  Why  do  I  hate  her  ?  "  she  exclaimed.  "  O  Lord  ! 
O  Lord !  "  breaking  into  vehement,  dreary,  ironical 
laughter. 

Gabrielle  waited  an  instant.  There  was  something 
terrible  to  her  in  the  weight  of  mysterious  malevo 
lence  hoarded  in  this  fierce  heart.  She  forgot  Ros 
chen,  the  hour,  the  circumstances. 

"  Yes.     Why  do  you  hate  me  ?  "   she  insisted. 

"  Why  ?  That  why  reaches  up  —  up,"  she  flung 
up  her  arms  as  if  the  low  roof  oppressed  her,  "  up  to 
heaven  where  a  God  ought  to  be,  and  is  n't,  and  it  's 
as  long  as  forever  and  ever." 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Gabrielle,  drawing  nearer  and 
watching  her  with  dilated,  fascinated  eyes. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  391 

"  It  's  no  use.     You  won't  understand." 

"  I  will  try  to  understand." 

A  gleam  of  dreary  triumph  lighted  the  woman's 
features  as  she  saw  the  baroness  standing  in  soft  en 
treaty  before  her  on  her  box.  She  stretched  her  legs 
still  more  recklessly.  She  was  judge.  This  girl  and 
her  kind  were  accused  before  her  bar.  She  laughed 
with  hoarse,  sad  laughter. 

"  Were  you  ever  cold  ?  "  she  demanded  abruptly. 

Gabrielle,  wondering,  replied  :  — 

"  Cold  ?  Of  course.  But,"  catching  the  woman's 
meaning,  "  never  without  knowing  where  there  was  a 
fire  that  would  warm  me." 

"  That  is  n't  being  cold,"  rejoined  the  other  con 
temptuously.  "  Being  cold  is  when  it  settles  in  your 
bones  and  your  marrow,  and  creeps  into  your  very 
thoughts,  and  is  deadly  round  your  heart,  and  you 
forget  you  ever  were  warm,  and  when  there  's  no  fire 
for  you  on  this  earth,  and  you  'd  go  to  hell  to  find 
one." 

"  No,"  said  Gabrielle  faintly,  "  I  never  was  cold." 

"  Were  you  ever  hungry  ?  I  don't  mean  did  you 
ever  wait  an  hour  for  your  dinner.  That  's  not  being 
hungry.  Hunger  is  never  having  enough,  never  in 
your  life,  always  the  gnawing  in  your  stomach,  and 
the  pain,  not  knowing  whether  you  '11  get  to-day  as 
much  as  barely  kept  you  alive  two  days  ago  ;  hunger 
is  when  you  'd  sell  your  soul  for  a  bone  they  throw 
a  dog."  " 

"  No,  I  never  was  hungry,"  murmured  Gabrielle. 

"  Were  you  ever  beaten,  —  flogged,  for  everything 
you  did  and  everything  you  did  n't  do,  waked  in  the 
morning  with  a  blow  and  a  curse,  kicked  into  your 
corner  of  the  bare  floor  to  sleep  ?  " 


392  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Gabrielle  shook  her  head. 

"  Then  what  do  you  want  here  ?  What  have  you 
got  to  do  with  me  ?  " 

The  woman  rose  and  faced  her,  haggard,  unwhole 
some,  her  eyes  blazing  with  the  light  of  old  wrongs 
and  griefs. 

Eoschen,  always  listening  greedily  for  a  footstep 
on  the  stairs,  not  caring  for  their  dull  talk,  staring 
moodily  into  the  lamp-flame,  now  lifted  her  swollen 
eyelids  and  wet  lashes,  with  a  trace  of  curiosity. 

"  Suppose  you  'd  never  known  anything  else  ?  Sup 
pose  you  'd  always  been  hungry,  always  been  cold, 
always  been  cursed  and  beaten  ?  Suppose  you  'd  never 
known  your  father  and  mother  ?  Suppose  you  'd 
lugged  a  baby  round  when  you  were  hardly  more  than 
a  baby  yourself  ?  Suppose  you  'd  slaved  for  poor  folks 
to  get  your  bit  of  crust  to  eat,  and  your  bit  of  garret- 
floor  to  sleep  on  ?  Then  suppose  you  were  sixteen, 
and  little  and  light,  not  having  had  much  chance  to 
grow  in  your  life,  and  not  bad  looking,  and  quick  with 
your  smile  and  your  word,  and  suppose  you  got  your 
first  chance,  a  place  in  a  great  country  house  ?  And 
suppose  you  got  on  fast,  having  a  bit  more  sense  than 
some,  and  were  promoted  and  praised,  and  suppose 
you  heard  the  first  kind  words  that  anybody  ever 
spoke  to  you,  soft  wheedling  words,  whispered  to  you 
all  the  time,  in  odd  places  and  odd  minutes,  not  by 
one  of  the  servants,  oh  no,  they  let  a  girl  alone,  but 
by  the  young  baron  himself  with  his  handsome  face 
and  gay  laugh,  and  friends  and  horses  and  money,  and 
his  pick  among  twenty  women  of  his  kind.  Well  ?  " 
she  demanded  fiercely.  But  Gabrielle  kept  her  great 
pitiful,  innocent  eyes  on  her  and  did  not  speak. 

"  They  drove  me  out.     They  said  it  was  terrible  so 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  393 

young  a  girl  could  be  so  depraved.  They  said  of 
course  young  men  would  be  young  men.  They  mar 
ried  the  baron  to  his  cousin.  She  was  your  kind.  I 
was  a  long  time  in  the  hospital.  They  said  the  child 
was  my  shame.  The  child  was  the  only  decent  thing 
there  ever  was  in  my  life.  The  child  was  the  only 
thing  I  ever  was  proud  of.  It  was  white  and  soft,  and 
it  smiled  and  knew  me.  It  was  beautiful  and  big 
and  strong.  It  did  n't  look  like  a  poor  giiTs  baby, 
and  me  so  little  and  thin.  I  never  was  so  glad.  I 
did  n't  care  for  the  neighbors'  talk.  I  did  n't  care  for 
the  misery  in  the  hospital,  or  anything  that  ever  had 
been.  I  was  happy.  I  went  into  the  factory.  It 
was  regular  work,  and  paid  well  enough,  and  I  could 
keep  the  child  near,  and  run  to  it  at  beer-time,  both 
morning  and  afternoon,  and  have  it  two  hours  at  noon, 
and  the  whole  evening  and  all  the  night.  I  did  n't 
envy  the  queen.  I  felt  kind  to  everybody.  I  kept 
myself  neat  and  mannerly.  Then  some  charity-women 
came  nosing  about.  They  pulled  down  their  mouths 
because  I  was  only  seventeen,  and  they  preached  at 
me  considerable,  but  I  did  n't  mind  it,  for  they  went 
wild  over  the  child.  He  was  a  wonder,  if  I  was  an 
awful  sinner.  They  talked  about  their  ccrib,'  and 
they  told  me  something  might  happen  to  him  alone  in 
my  room  while  I  was  at  work,  and  they  would  take 
care  of  him.  They  were  friends  of  the  working-women, 
and  all  that  trash.  They  were  your  kind.  I  know 
what  it  means  now.  But  I  was  young  then,  and  like 
a  fool  I  believed  them,  curse  them !  and  one  morning 
I  took  him  there  well,  and  when  I  went  for  him  at 
night  he  was  stone  dead.  They  had  killed  him." 

"Killed  him  !  "  stammered  Gabrielle  aghast. 

"  They  talked  about  convulsions.    They  talked  about 


394  THE  OPEN  DOOR. 

teeth.  How  do  I  know  ?  He  was  always  well  with 
me.  I  was  n't  there.  I  only  know  I  left  him  warm 
and  crowing  and  cooing,  and  I  found  him  cold  and 
stiff.  If  I  had  had  him  he  would  n't  have  died.  Why 
did  n't  they  let  me  alone  ?  Why  did  they  come  and 
take  him  away  ?  I  say  they  killed  him." 

Gabrielle  was  grasping  the  chair-back  rigidly  with 
one  hand,  and  covering  her  eyes  with  the  other.  She 
shuddered  visibly,  and  made  no  attempt  to  speak. 

"  Oh,  it  makes  you  ill,  does  it  ?  It  shakes  your 
nerves  ?  And  it 's  only  words  —  words  —  words,"  the 
harsh  voice  shrieked.  "  Live  it  and  see  how  you  feel. 
The  lives  of  such  as  us,  and  the  misery  crowding 
around  you  on  every  side,  you  can't  so  much  as  hear. 
It  takes  the  gloss  off  the  little  High  Altar.  Live  it,  I 
say !  " 

"  But  me  ?  I  still  don't  understand  why  you  hate 
me,"  murmured  Gabrielle,  almost  inaudibly. 

"  Not  yet  ?  I  should  think  you  'd  had  enough.  But 
there  is  another  reason.  You  are  like  her.  You  don't 
look  like  her,  but  you  are  her  kind,  the  kind  they 
make  happy  and  handsome,  and  keep  away  from  every 
thing.  When  they  found  out  they  said,  '  For  heaven's 
sake  don't  let  dear  Vera  suspect.'  But  I  got  a  chance 
and  spoke  to  her.  She  was  so  pretty  and  pleasant  I 
always  liked  her.  She  was  n't  much  older  than  me.  I 
thought  she  would  have  a  fair  word  for  me  and  help 
me,  and  I  was  frightened  and  half  crazy.  First  she 
blushed.  Then  she  turned  pale.  It  was  a  lie  to  pre 
tend  she  did  n't  know.  Girls  are  sly.  They  always 
know  what 's  going  on.  '  You  must  n't  talk  to  me,'  she 
said.  '  You  are  a  very  wicked  girl.  If  you  don't  go 
away  I  '11  call  mamma.'  '  I  am  so  miserable,'  I  told 
her  ;  '  I  am  so  afraid.'  '  Go  off  ! '  she  said.  4 1  don't 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  395 

want  to  know  about  improper  things.'  Her  eyes  were 
as  hard  as  flint,  and  she  turned  me  off  like  a  dog. 
And  her  babies  did  n't  die !  She 's  got  them  all, 
grown  now.  She  's  prospered.  She  's  kept  her  young 
looks.  And  when  she  drives  by  a  lot  of  us  she  's  sort 
of  pleased  and  surprised,  like  you  the  day  I  saw  you 
staring  at  us  by  the  factory,  as  if  we  were  a  new  kind 
of  monkey  put  there  to  amuse  you." 

"  And  he  ?  " 

The  woman  drew  up  her  knees  to  meet  her  elbows, 
held  her  face  in  her  palms,  and  stared  at  the  opposite 
wall. 

"  I  've  hated  him  twenty  years,"  she  muttered ; 
there  was  utter  silence  in  the  room,  she  drew  a  hard 
breath  ;  "  and  there  was  n't  one  moment  of  it  when  I 
would  n't  have  forgiven  him  if  he  'd  come  back." 

"And  this  girl  here?"  demanded  Gabrielle,  her 
tone  low,  clear,  and  solemn,  her  eyes  still  shaded,  her 
brain  making  its  best  effort  to  comprehend,  and  real 
izing  that  this  woman  must  be  met  with  intelligence 
or  all  was  lost.  "  Why  were  you  —  you  of  all  women 
—  helping  her  toward  sorrow  and  shame  ?  " 

"  Well  now,  I  was  n't !  "  The  woman's  mocking 
laugh  was  startling.  "  You  see  I  should  have  seen 
him  to-night.  I  thought  perhaps  he  did  want  to 
marry  her.  She  said  so,  and  there  's  every  kind  of 
fool  among  men.  I  thought  I  'd  find  out.  But  if  lie 
did  n't  want  to  marry  her,"  —  she  stopped,  glanced  at 
the  sullen  figure,  then  keenly  at  Gabrielle,  and  with 
scathing  disdain  continued,  "  why,  she  's  got  a  streak 
of  your  kind  in  her.  I  'd  trust  Roschen  to  look  out 
for  herself  with  any  man.  She  's  respectable.  For 
a  house  and  a  title  she  'd  take  considerable  trouble, 
but  bless  you,  she  's  cool-headed.  She  knows  where 


396  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

to  draw  the  line  as  well  as  you  others.  Oh  dear,  yes. 
Eoschen  is  respectable." 

"  Well,  I  am,"  declared  the  girl.  "I  have  always 
been.  And  I  intend  to  be." 

Gabrielle  never  glanced  at  her.  It  seemed  to  her 
that  Roschen  was  of  no  importance  whatever.  It  was 
this  fierce  woman  whom  she  must  answer,  and  she 
longed  for  a  higher  and  more  profound  insight.  Not 
pity  alone,  not  gentleness,  and  soft  assurances  of  sym 
pathy  could  win  this  defiant  spirit,  it  would  laugh 
them  to  scorn ;  but  sense,  strong  sound  sense,  must 
meet  it  on  its  own  ground. 

"  And  now  you  know  why  I  hate  you.  Have  you 
got  enough  ?  You  'd  better  go  off  now.  She  's  all 
right,  you  see.  And  I  'm  a  bad  lot.  I  never  was  re 
spectable,  and  never  wanted  to  be.  Her  father  would 
be  in  an  awful  rage  if  he  knew  she  was  here  to-night. 
He  's  one  of  the  respectables.  You  go  home  now  and 
send  me  a  tract,  and  tell  me  you  '11  pray  for  me.  But 
you  '11  have  to  pray  hard.  I  'm  not  the  only  one. 
There  are  thousands  like  me." 

"  You  don't  hate  me,"  began  Gabrielle,  her  eyes 
resolute  and  shining  brilliantly  in  her  pale  face.  "  If 
you  had  hated  me  you  would  never  have  told  me  your 
poor  sad  life.  You  would  never  have  trusted  me  to 
understand.  You  know  in  your  heart  that  you  don't 
hate  me.  And  you  are  unjust.  You  talk  a  great  deal 
about  fair  play,  but  you  don't  give  it." 

Incredulous  and  amazed  the  woman  got  up  slowly 
and  came  forward. 

"  You  are  hard  to  my  kind,  as  you  call  it,  hard  and 
cruel.  Isn't  it  enough  to  have  had  all  your  sorrow 
and  pain  without  filling  your  heart  with  doubt  of 
everything  good  ?  You  have  a  terrible  pride.  You 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  397 

are  prouder  than  we.  You  are  no  cheap,  empty-headed 
woman,  no  narrow  brain  and  thin  nature.  You  are 
wise  enough  to  see  things  right.  You  are  strong. 
You  are  loving.  You  are  loyal.  And  yet  you  make 
yourself  cruel.  You  make  yourself  blind.  Oh  no, 
you  are  not  fair.  You  wrong  me  and  my  kind.  I 
blame  you  for  your  hard  heart." 

With  widely  opened  eyes  and  parted  lips  the  woman 
stared,  as  if  dumb  with  amazement.  Gabrielle  was 
not  slow  to  perceive  her  advantage. 

"  If  your  poor  little  baby  had  lived,  you  would  have 
worked  to  keep  him  white  and  sweet  and  beautiful. 
You  loved  him  so.  You  were  so  proud  of  him.  You 
would  have  made  his  home  clean.  You  would  have 
tried  to  keep  him  from  harm.  And  when  he  was 
older,  you  would  have  done  everything  in  the  world  to 
make  him  good  and  happy.  You  said  it  yourself. 
You  were  not  hard  then.  There  was  only  kindness  in 
your  heart  when  your  poor  little  baby  was  with  you. 
And  would  you  not  have  been  right  to  love  him  and 
care  for  him  ?  And  what  more  does  my  kind  do  than 
to  love  and  care  for  its  own  ?  To  want  to  keep  its 
children  from  harm,  and  to  give  them  bright,  soft, 
beautiful  things  ?  Would  you  not  have  done  all  that 
if  you  could  ?  And  would  your  little  baby  have  been 
to  blame  if  he  had  grown  up  happy  and  contented, 
and  unconscious  of  even  your  former  misery?  You 
cannot  condemn  us  there.  There  our  kind  and  your 
kind  and  all  the  world  are  alike." 

The  woman  made  a  gesture  as  if  she  would  reply, 
but  Gabrielle  said  with  soft  insistence :  — r- 

"  No,  let  me  speak  now.  You  have  told  me  your 
life.  Now  hear  mine.  Where  you  as  a  child  had 
blows  and  toil  and  curses  and  cold  and  hunger,  I  had 


398  THE  OPEN  DOOR. 

tenderness  and  warmth  and  ease  and  careless  joys  and 
freedom.  You  were  beaten,  I  was  caressed.  You 
never  had  a  home,  you  were  neglected,  you  have  been 
grossly  outraged  and  betrayed,  you  suffered  miserably 
in  a  hospital,  you  lost  your  beloved  child.  And  I 
have  known  only  truth  and  devotion  in  my  home,  only 
scrupulous  respect  from  the  world.  I  never  have  had 
a  great  sorrow,  at  least  since  I  was  old  enough  to 
understand  it,  and  I  realize  to-night  that  I  never  have 
had  even  trials,  only  petty  annoyances  that  I  in  my 
selfishness  chose  to  construe  as  important.  I  scarcely 
know  physical  pain.  And  yet  do  you  think  I  am 
ashamed  to  stand  before  you  ?  Ah,  no  !  For  I  was 
always  sorry  for  you  —  sorry  for  you  before  I  under 
stood,  sorry  before  I  ever  saw  you.  You  say  there  are 
thousands  of  you.  There  are  thousands  of  us  long 
ing  to  be  something  better  than  ignorant  and  careless 
and  heartless,  yet  not  knowing  how  to  reach  you,  — 
exactly  such  women  as  you,  and  if  we  make  mistakes, 
if  we  cannot  grasp  it  all  at  once,  if  we  go  to  work 
awkwardly,  it  proves  nothing  against  us,  the  longing 
is  still  there.  If  we  are  hard  upon  what  we  do  not 
understand,  you  are  harder,  you  are  prouder,  you  build 
a  great  wall  of  envy  and  hate  and  mistrust  between 
us,  you  shut  us  out ! 

"  I  grieve  for  your  cruel  childhood.  For  your  sor 
row  —  all  of  it  —  there  is  only  pity  in  my  heart.  In 
my  life  there  is  such  wealth  of  love  and  promise,  I 
long  to  draw  you  toward  it  and  cover  you  with  the 
sunshine  of  my  own  past." 

"  You  can't,"  said  the  woman,  drearily.  "  No  God 
and  no  devil  can  give  me  my  lost  chance." 

"Who  knows  the  future?" 

"  They  killed  mine  long  ago." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  399 

"  Forgive  them !  "  cried  Gabrielle  passionately,  with, 
as  gallant  and  generous  an  impulse  as  ever  inspired 
any  boy-knight  of  the  old  Dohnas  to  succor  a  wounded 
enemy.  "  Forgive  us.  Forgive  me.  There  are  wrongs 
on  both  sides,  but  ours  against  you  are  a  thousand 
times  the  blacker.  Don't  you  suppose  we  know  it? 
Can't  you  see  my  heart  is  breaking  over  you  this 
night  ?  Be  merciful.  Don't  shut  me  out.  Forgive. 
Only  the  strong  forgive.  You  have  lost  your  chance. 
You  lost  it  long  ago.  But  you  can  turn  your  misery 
into  gladness  and  blessings  for  many." 

"Me?" 

"  Yes,  you  !  You  !  You  can  reach  them  when  we 
are  helpless  and  awkward.  You  understand  them. 
To  you  they  will  have  no  mistrust,  no  reserve.  Ah, 
don't  you  see  that?  That  is  the  one  thing  needed. 
We  do  have  hearts,  but  we  don't  know  how  to  find 
yours.  But  if  some  of  your  kind  and  some  of  my 
kind  would  only  stand  firmly  together,  shoulder  to 
shoulder,  we  could  move  the  world !  " 

Her  voice  rang  out  like  a  young  prophet's,  and  she 
smiled  from  her  brave  and  hopeful  heart. 

Neither  spoke  for  many  minutes. 

"  Will  you  not  try  to  trust  me  a  little  ?  There  is 
something  in  you  that  I  trust.  And  there  are  things 
you  say  which  I  believe  —  and  /  think  you  would 
find  that  I  should  learn  to  understand."  She  held 
out  her  hand  frankly.  "  Won't  you  believe  at  least 
that  I  mean  to  be  fair  with  you  ?  " 

The  woman  did  not  take  the  proffered  hand.  Long 
and  searchingly,  with  a  singular  watchfulness,  she 
studied  Gabrielle's  face,  and  finally  with  grim  delight 
in  her  own  irony,  — 

"  I  '11  give  you  a  trial,"  she  said  dryly. 


400  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Will  you  come  to  see  me  ?  " 

"  What  will  you  do  with  me  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  yet." 

"  You  won't  try  to  reclaim  me,  or  anything  ?  "  the 
woman  asked  with  redawning  mistrust. 

Gabrielle  shook  her  head,  as  if  that  were  scarcely 
worth  answering.  "Would  you  like  something  to 
read  ?  " 

"  Something  you  read  yourself,  or  something  se 
lected  for  my  kind  ?  " 

Gabrielle  smiled,  in  spite  of  her  night's  work,  a 
fresh,  young,  girlish  smile  of  amusement  and  sym 
pathy,  and  the  woman  liked  it. 

"  I  am  reading  a  pamphlet,  and  all  of  the  leaves 
are  not  yet  cut.  You  can  see  for  yourself.  Would 
you  like  that?" 

"What 'sit  about?" 

"About  prisons  in  France,  and  what  people  are 
trying  to  do  to  make  them  better  and  more  humane." 

"  Are  they  doing  anything  particular  ?  "  she  asked 
negligently. 

"  It  seemed  so  to  me." 

"  Well,  I  don't  mind  looking  at  it.  I  ought  to  know 
more  about  prisons  than  you.  I  've  been  in  'em." 

"  Will  you  come  and  get  it  ?  " 

"  You  'd  better  bring  it  to  me." 

"  But  you  will  come  to  see  me  ?  " 

"  No.     I  don't  like  old  Putty-Face." 

"Will  you  come  to  see  Count  Hugo?"  Gabrielle 
asked  with  a  sudden  inspiration.  "  He  is  Bernhard 
Dietz's  best  friend." 

"  The  cripple  ? "  the  woman  said  in  the  same  ex 
pressionless  tone  as  before.  "  Well,  perhaps  I  would  n't 
mind  coming  to  see  him." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  401 

"  And  now  will  you  let  me  take  Roschen  home  ?  " 
The  girl  had  fallen  asleep  with  her  head  on  the 

table.     Her  friend  shook  her. 

"  Wake  up  !     It 's  three  o'clock  in   the  morning. 

Your  circus  is  over.     Your  officer  stalked  off  long 


Rubbing  her  eyes,  rosy,  dimpled,  her  curly  hair  in 
disorder,  Roschen  looked  younger  than  ever,  and 
stared  at  them  like  a  suddenly  roused  baby. 

Gabrielle  felt  ages  older  than  she,  older  indeed  than 
the  Gabrielle  of  a  few  hours  since. 

"  Poor  Roschen,"  she  said  indulgently.  "  You  are 
only  a  great  child.  I  am  sure  you  meant  no  harm. 
And  everything  will  be  happy  again  when  Herr  Dietz 
knows  it  all." 

"  When  Bernhard  knows !  "  shrieked  the  girl,  now 
thoroughly  awake.  "  You  are  not  going  to  tell  him  ? 
Not  going  to  take  away  the  baron,  tell  Bernhard,  and 
leave  me  without  anybody?  " 

Gabrielle  looked  at  her  in  dismay. 

"  But  you  will  tell  him,  Roschen  ?  You  surely 
would  not  marry  a  man  without  telling  him?  You 
could  not." 

"  There  's  no  knowing  what  queer  things  very  re 
spectable  girls  will  do,"  remarked  the  outcast,  with 
her  bitter  smile.  "  Hold  your  tongue,  Roschen,  and 
come  along  home.  I  '11  come,  too,"  she  added,  but 
looked  sharp  inquiry  at  Gabrielle,  who  said  :  — 

"  Yes,  come.     I  should  be  glad." 

The  morning  twilight,  as  the  singular  company 
marched  in  silence  back  to  the  villa,  revealed  two  hag 
gard  faces.  The  woman's  tinged  with  chronic  sick- 
liness,  and  Gabrielle's  marked  with  dark  circles  of 
weariness  and  excitement  beneath  the  eyes.  The  girl 


402  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

for  whom  they  had  fought  walked  along  sullenly,  like 
a  stupid,  greedy  child  deprived  of  an  anticipated  feast, 
but  handsome  and  fresh-colored  still,  refreshed  by  her 
long  nap,  and  not  preyed  upon  by  over-much  feeling, 
while  Lipps  in  his  faultless  livery  followed  Gabrielle 
at  the  regulation  distance ;  011  his  clean-shaven  face 
was  no  intimation  that  he  perceived  the  slightest  ec 
centricity,  or  in  fact  that  he  even  saw  any  one  but  the 
baroness,  for  whom  his  master  had  sent  him. 

As  they  passed  the  market-gardens,  there  were 
lights  moving  in  some  of  the  little  houses,  sounds 
within  and  without,  a  wagon  had  been  brought  for 
ward  to  load,  and  a  man  was  gathering  salad. 

The  woman  with  a  brusque  gesture  called  Gabri- 
elle's  attention,  who  nodded  gravely. 

At  the  villa  gate  the  woman  said  surlily :  — 

"  You  Ve  beaten  this  time." 

"  Ah,  no,"  returned  Gabrielle  warmly.  "  It  is  you 
who  have  beaten  both  me  —  and  yourself." 

They  stole  into  the  house  by  a  back  entrance.  Ga 
brielle  watched  Lipps  lock  the  gate  and  doors,  and 
pocket  the  keys,  then  crept  with  the  lightest  possible 
step  to  her  balcony. 

"  He  is  asleep,  of  course,"  she  thought. 

"  Is  all  well  ? "  asked  Hugo's  voice  instantly. 
"  You  Ve  got  her  ?  " 

"  All  is  well,"  she  returned  in  a  stage  whisper. 

"  You  have  been  gone  so  long.  You  have  had 
some  odious  scene.  I  have  been  very  anxious  about 
you.  You  must  be  dead  tired." 

She  waited  a  moment.  Then  he  heard  her  voice 
low  and  tremulous  and  glad  :  — 

"  I  never  was  so  happy  in  my  life." 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

"  I  DON'T  mind  a  noise  at  night,"  the  countess  an 
nounced  with  acerbity,  "  if  I  only  know  what  it  is." 

"  That 's  precisely  my  case,"  rejoined  Hugo.  "  For 
instance,  when  I  merely  suspect  it  to  be  a  burglar,  I 
am  not  happy,  but  when  I  positively  know  that  it 's  a 
spook,  bliss  is  no  name  for  my  condition." 

She  frowned. 

44  But  there  were  noises  last  night.  Doors,  footsteps, 
creaks.  Mousey  was  wild.  I  can't  tell  you  how  many 
times  the  poor  angel  started  from  his  restless  sleep  and 
barked.  He  was  perfectly  aware  that  something  was 
going  on." 

44  My  dear  mamma,  something  is  always  going  on," 
he  returned  pacifically.  44  Why  agitate  yourself  ? 
How  many  times  a  year  do  you  complain  to  me  of  mys 
terious  noises  in  the  night  ?  Obviously  they  can't  be 
burglars,  for  we  don't  miss  any  spoons.  Suppose  we 
accept  the  spook  theory  and  be  tranquil.  But  if  you  'd 
walk  a  half-hour  in  the  garden  just  before  going  to 
bed,  and  not  touch  curacoa  or  Chartreuse,  and  would 
lock  Mousey  every  night  into  a  padded  cell,  a  shindy 
of  burglars  and  spooks  together  could  prance  all  over 
the  house  without  disturbing  you." 

He  hoped  by  this  light  charge  with  the  old  and 
hated  weapons  to  divert  her  attention  from  the  main 
body  of  her  grievance,  and  he  also  put  much  faith  in 
his  undignified  language  as  a  successful  irritant,  but 
she  insisted  querulously  :  — 


404  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"My  nerves  cannot  bear  it.  As  the  Frau  Major 
says,  my  nerves  must  be  considered  above  everything. 
It  was  between  three  and  four  o'clock  this  morning, 
that  I  distinctly  heard  one  of  the  house  doors  and  some 
other  doors." 

He  regarded  her  covertly  from  his  pillow  and  re 
sorted  to  another  species  of  defence  —  sometimes  the 
best  mask  in  the  world  —  the  truth. 

"  It  was  without  doubt  Fraulein  von  Dohna  return 
ing  at  that  hour  from  some  midnight  adventure." 

"Nonsense,  Hugo!"  she  exclaimed  irritably,  now 
convinced  of  the  absurdity  of  her  vague  suspicions. 

"  Come,  mamma,"  he  said  affably,  "  let 's  talk  poli 
tics.  You  are  better  at  politics  than  any  woman  I 
know." 

"  Are  n't  you  rather  pale,  Hugo  ?  " 

"  If  you  say  so,  it  must  be  true,"  he  responded  with 
equivocal  civility.  "  The  weather  is  a  trifle  sultry." 

"  Yes,  it  is  frightfully  enervating.  My  pulse  is 
scarcely  perceptible,  and  Mousey  can  hardly  hold  up 
his  head." 

"  Is  he  pale  ?  " 

"  He  is  fatigued,"  she  answered  curtly.  "  How  can 
you  bear  to  stay  in  bed  so  late?  " 

"  It 's  indolence.     Then  my  duties  are  not  onerous." 

"  I  wish  mine  were  not,"  she  sighed.  "  And  I  am 
so  troubled  and  uncertain  of  my  course." 

"  Indeed  !  " 

"  I  think  there  is  no  doubt  that  Gabrielle  is  insin 
cere.  I  don't  exactly  know  what  it  is  my  duty  to 
do.  Of  course  I  desire  to  be  scrupulously  delicate  in 
my  consideration  of  the  family.  But  after  one  has 
that  peculiar  feeling  in  regard  to  any  one,  it  is  irk 
some  to  always  have  her  about.  And  I  am  confident 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  405 

Gabrielle  is  not  the  best  person  to  take  with  me  to  the 
Biviera  next  winter.  I  shall  remain  here  during  the 
summer.  One  is  cooler  after  all  at  home.  And 
Mousey  hates  being  cooped  up  in  those  horrid  hotels 
in  warm  weather.  But  I  wish  to  go  away  as  early  as 
September,  and  I  must  decide.  It  is  very  trying." 

Hugo  held  four  long  emaciated  fingers  above  the 
sheet,  and  surveyed  them  with  his  father's  smile. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?  You  look  like  Launcelot 
Gobbo." 

"  Counting  months/  Why  should  you  be  in  doubt, 
mamma  ?  It 's  much  longer  than  your  average." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  approve  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  Of  sending  Gabrielle  away  and  taking  Sofie  Go- 
bert?" 

'•  By  all  means.  Why  hesitate  about  such  a  little 
thing  as  that  ?  " 

"  Do  you  think  Sofie  will  suit  me  ?  " 

"  Better  than  Fraulein  von  Dohna  ?  Unquestion 
ably." 

"  But  you  always  seem  to  think  Gabrielle  is  perfec 
tion,"  she  rejoined  petulantly. 

"  Pardon  me.  I  have  not  intimated  that  I  person 
ally  should  prefer  Sofie  Gobert  to  Fraulein  von  Dohna 
in  any  imaginable  position.  I  am  merely  giving  my 
attention  —  in  the  most  scientific  and  objective  spirit 
which  I  can  command  —  to  your  interesting  system 
of  rotation  of  companions.  Sofie  Gobert  has  every 
quality  which  Fraulein  von  Dohna  has  not." 

"  Oh,  Hugo,  even  when  you  pretend  to  take  some 
interest,  you  are  ironical.  I  am  very  unhappy." 

"I  am  not  ironical  in  saying  take  Sofie  Gobert. 
You  require  change.  Take  it.  You  are  tired  of  -Frau- 


406  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

lein  von  Dohna.  Send  her  away.  You  wish  to  invite 
Fraulein  Gobert  to  pass  the  winter  with  you  on  the 
Eiviera.  Invite  her.  I  shall  never  oppose  you  again 
in  such  a  matter.  Man  proposes.  Frau  von  Funnel 
disposes.  Kismet." 

"  I  wish  you  would  take  things  more  seriously.  If 
Gabrielle  were  not  so  disappointing  —  so  inscrutable," 
she  went  on  with  a  vacillating,  distressed  expression. 
"  I  don't  know  what  she  wants.  She  has  encouraged 
Lieutenant  von  Raven  for  months,  and  then  refused 
him  point  blank  at  Baden.  It  is  ridiculous." 

"  I  think  it  is." 

"  And  it 's  disgraceful.  She  knows  what  I  expect 
of  her.  Of  course  she  does  n't  mean  it.  I  told  him 
so.  He  is  coming  to  see  me  to-day.  If  she  would  be 
reasonable  I  could  overlook  much." 

"  Raven  has  been  here." 

"What!" 

"  He  came  to  see  me  a  few  moments.  He  did  n't 
stay  long.  I  think  he  was  in  a  hurry." 

"  Did  he  ask  you  to  intercede  for  him  with  Gabri 
elle?" 

"  Well  —  no,  he  did  n't.  I  rather  think  he  has 
given  that  up.  I  fancy  he  is  going  to  get  leave  of  ab 
sence  for  a  while.  He  seems  to  want  to  go  to  Geneva 
to  improve  his  French.  I  told  him  I  thought  it  was  a 
good  plan.  His  French  ought  to  be  improved." 

"  And  he  did  n't  ask  for  me  ?  " 

"  The  conversation  was  short,  and  I  remember  it 
without  difficulty,"  Hugo  said  dryly.  "  Your  name 
was  not  mentioned." 

"  I  am  astonished.  I  don't  understand  it."  After  a 
while  she  said  ponderously,  "  This  is  the  last  straw. 
This  decides  me.  She  must  go." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  407 

"  You  have  not  told  her  yet  ?  "  he  asked  carelessly. 

"No." 

"You  see  her  father  is  off  there,"  he  suggested 
mildly.  "  Of  course  you  '11  give  her  a  little  time  to 
look  about.  One  does  as  much  as  that  for  a  cook. 
And  I  believe  their  house  is  closed." 

"  She  has  friends  somewhere,  I  presume.  And  then 
those  Berlin  Dohnas." 

"  No  doubt.     No  doubt." 

"And  I  shall  be  most  punctilious  in  my  conduct 
toward  her." 

"  Naturally." 

"  I  'm  going  to  have  the  Waldenbergs  to  dine  while 
the  roses  are  so  abundant.  I  shall  not  tell  her  till 
after  that.  She  might  be  disagreeable." 

"  No,  I  would  n't.  Have  you  any  other  candidate 
in  view  behind  Sofie  Gobert  ?  Because  I  advise  you 
to  keep  a  row  of  them  to  windward."  His  tone  was 
utterly  gentle  and  inoffensive.  She  began  to  breathe 
uneasily. 

"You  are  so  unfeeling,"  she  exclaimed.     "If"  — 

"  Ah,  mamma,  let  us  leave  that  unborn  sister  of 
mine  out  of  the  question  !  "  And  earnestly,  kindly, 
sadly,  knowing  the  fruitlessness  of  any  appeal,  but 
moved,  as  the  wisest  of  us  may  be  now  and  then,  to  at 
tempt  the  impossible,  and  wrestle  with  the  gigantic 
invincible  fatality  of  temperament,  "  How  wretched 
you  make  yourself !  "  he  said.  "  Have  faith  in  Gabri- 
elle.  Be  content.  Be  at  rest.  Trust  her.  She  is 
truth  itself,  and  generosity  and  goodness." 

She  stood  by  him  panting  slightly,  and  with  her 
sudden  painful  look  of  jealousy,  her  singular  min 
gling  of  sternness  and  vacillation, 

"  I  cannot,"  she  whispered  helplessly. 


408  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

He  sighed  and  said  no  more.  He  knew  that  she 
could  not.  He  remained  in  bed  several  days,  by  his 
doctor's  orders,  and  feeling,  indeed,  no  temptation  to 
disobey  them.  Lipps,  dissatisfied  with  the  count's  ap 
pearance,  had  on  his  own  responsibility  summoned  the 
physician,  who  after  his  examination  inquired  :  — 

"  What  have  you  been  trying  to  do  ?  " 

"  Athletic  sports,"  returned  Hugo. 

"  It  looks  like  it.  You  'd  better  stay  where  you  are 
for  a  while." 

A  message  of  cheerful  import  was  conveyed  to  Ga- 
brielle  to  the  effect  that  she  no  longer  need  be  anxious 
about  her  stupid  sheep,  for  the  wolf  had  left  town. 
Beyond  this,  she  had  no  communication  with  Hugo, 
he  being  invisible,  and  she  in  closest  attendance  upon 
the  countess,  who  developed  a  peculiarly  difficult  and 
exacting  mood,  and  required  her  constantly.  She  sent 
down  wistfully  from  her  balcony  every  evening  a  soft 
little  "  Good-night."  There  seemed  to  be  a  great  deal 
unspoken  between  them,  —  all  the  events  of  that  noc 
turnal  expedition,  and  much,  much  else.  It  was  not 
always  easy  to  wait. 

Dietz  came  home  and  reported  to  Hugo,  laying  notes 
and  sketches  before  him,  but  singularly  uncommuni 
cative  about  the  journey.  He  was  cordial,  grateful, 
affectionate,  but  not  his  restful  self.  He  seemed  pre 
occupied,  and  the  count  feared  that  the  poor  fellow 
had  been  met  at  once  on  his  arrival  with  the  tale  of 
Koschen's  performances,  and  when  Dietz  said  some 
what  shyly  that  he  was  rather  busy,  and  should  not  be 
able  to  come  again  very  soon,  Hugo  pressed  his  hand 
in  mute  sympathy,  thinking,  "  A  man  has  to  fight 
that  sort  of  thing  out  for  himself.  I  can't  speak  till 
he  speaks." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  409 

One  afternoon  the  Frau  Major  was  closeted  long 
with  the  countess,  while  Gabrielle,  in  her  room,  con 
gratulated  herself  that  she  was  not  summoned.  Stand 
ing  on  her  balcony,  wondering  when  she  should  be 
allowed  to  see  Hugo,  whom  Lipps  said  had  been  pro 
moted  to  the  sofa,  she  saw  the  two  ladies  in  the  rose- 
garden,  and  retreated. 

"  You  are  fatigued,  dear  friend,"  she  heard  the 
Frau  Major  say  tenderly. 

"  I  have  had  to  arrange  all  the  flowers  in  this  great 
house.  I  have  nobody  who  thinks  for  me,  who  saves 
me  care,  who  is  pr£voyante.  With  my  chest,  and  my 
nerves,  I  need  a  sustaining  influence.  Gabrielle  is  so 
self -engrossed,  so  unsympathizing." 

"  She  is  young,  still.  Youth  is  apt  to  be  self-ab 
sorbed,"  returned  the  other  indulgently.  "  Let  us  re 
member  she  is  unaware  of  her  deficiencies.  Sofie  is 
older  —  and  the  sweetest  temper.  But  Gabrielle  is 
very,  very  dear.  She  has  been  a  special  pet  of  mine. 
I  interested  myself  greatly  in  her  —  on  your  account. 
With  your  wise  guidance,  she  might  still "  — 

"  She  has  a  great  deal  to  learn.  She  has  treated 
Lorenz  von  Raven  abominably.  She  is  very  ungrate 
ful." 

"Perhaps  the  dear  heedless  child  really  prefers 
Egon.  I  am  going  to  give  a  fete  champetre  for  the 
Orphans,  and  we  could  arrange  some  pleasant  little 
combinations.  As  to  sweet  Sofie  Gobert  "  — 

They  had  passed.  Gabrielle,  hearing  her  name, 
had  instantly  withdrawn  as  far  as  possible  within  the 
room,  but  this  choice  conversational  fragment  floated 
up  to  her  nevertheless. 

She  sighed  and  smiled.  That  morning  after  she 
cut  the  roses,  she  began  as  usual  to  fill  the  vases, 


410  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

"  Let  me  do  it !  "  said  the  countess  jealously.  "Flowers 
are  one  of  my  few  joys.  You  might  at  least  allow 
me  to  arrange  my  own  roses." 

"  It  is  a  trifle,"  thought  Gabrielle ;  "  yet  a  few 
months  ago  it  would  have  broken  my  heart.  It  must 
be  growing  tough  with  use." 

Some  one  knocked  lightly,  and  Mercedes  von  Wal- 
denberg's  handsome  head  looked  in. 

"They  said  you  were  here.  I  insisted  upon  not 
being  announced.  This  is  my  revenge-visit.  We 
won't  reckon  all  the  stiff  ones  on  the  countess.  This 
is  solely  for  you.  How  pretty  your  room  is !  I  shall 
never  forget  the  day  you  sat  in  my  room  and  reviled 
me,  you  dearest  girl !  " 

"  I  shall  ask,  as  you  did,  what  have  you  come  to 
tell  me  ?  "  Gabrielle  returned,  laughing.  "  Lovers, 
I  know  !  " 

"  Not  lovers,  a  lover,"  Mercedes  corrected  prettily. 
"  The  one." 

"  I  knew  it !  "  and  Gabrielle  threw  her  arms  about 
her  warmly. 

"  Oh,"  began  Mercedes,  "  if  you  could  suspect  all 
the  wickedness  I  've  been  perpetrating.  It  is  deli 
cious  !  I  have  come  to  tell  you  wonders." 

"  Mercedes,"  Gabrielle  broke  in  impulsively,  "  if 
you  would  only  come  down  with  me  and  see  Count 
Hugo.  You  have  always  refused,  but  now  you  are  so 
near ;  and  I  think  he  would  be  glad,  and  you  would 
not  be  sorry,  and  I  —  I  wish  it  so  much." 

"  I  shrink  from  seeing  him,  Gabrielle.  I  don't 
deny  it." 

"  Oh,  you  need  n't  be  afraid  of  him,"  retorted  Ga 
brielle  with  a  little  heat.  "  He  looks  very  handsome 
and  noble." 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  411 

Mercedes  smiled  with  mischief  and  quick  intelli 
gence. 

"  It  is  not  that  alone,"  she  said.  "  But  send  down 
and  ask  him." 

Hugo's    civil    reply    to    their    message    came    up 
promptly,  and  presently  he  saw  them  —  the  two  women 
who  had  had  the  strongest  influence  upon  his  life  - 
entering  his  room  together. 

Mercedes  took  his  hand  with  perceptible  timidity. 
The  elegant  composure  of  the  woman  of  the  world 
fled  before  this  gaunt  vision  of  the  friend  of  other 
days,  whose  last  gay  and  gallant  greeting  as  he  passed 
the  crowded  tribune  before  starting  on  that  fatal  race, 
and  turned  in  the  saddle  to  seek  her  glance,  she  re 
membered  well. 

"  This  is  very  strange,  Hugo,"  she  murmured  help 
lessly. 

He  looked  at  her  and  saw  his  youth,  with  its  long- 
vista  of  dead  delights,  of  sunny  moments  gone  for 
ever,  of  dear  lost  hopes.  His  heart  was  tender  to 
them  and  to  her.  But  suffering  had  transformed  not 
his  body  alone.  It  was  a  changed  soul  that  greeted 
her  through  his  deep  and  luminous  eyes,  and  before 
he  answered,  they  sought  Gabrielle  with  a  grave,  lin 
gering  glance. 

"  Perhaps  it  would  not  seem  so  strange  to  you  if 
you  had  come  before,"  he  said  with  quiet  friendliness. 

"  Yes,  I  ought  to  have  come,"  she  admitted  remorse 
fully. 

"  I  have  sometimes  thought  so." 

"  But  I  never  was  famous  for  doing  what  I  ought." 

"  I  remember  that,"  and  he  smiled,  adding,  "  I  do 
not  reproach  you,  Mercedes,  and  it  is  very  good  of 
you  to  come  to-day.  I  am  glad  to  see  you  again." 


412  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Reassured,  she  began  brightly  :  — 

"  But  I  'm  better  now,  Hugo.  I  Ve  reformed.  You 
have  no  idea.  Gabrielle  has  plucked  me  from  the 
burning." 

"  I  never  before  heard  the  Marquis  de  Vallion 
called  by  that  name,"  Gabrielle  retorted  coolly. 

Mercedes  gave  her  a  quick  smile. 

"  Hugo,  of  course  you  hear  all  the  gossip  about  me. 
I  want  your  blessing,"  she  said,  less  at  ease  than  she 
appeared. 

"  It  is  the  heavy  stage-father  who  blesses,"  he  re 
turned  languidly.  "  I  fear  I  am  scarcely  corpulent 
enough." 

"  Never  mind.  Give  me  as  good  a  one  as  you  can. 
I  would  rather  have  a  little  from  you  than  a  large  one 
from  most  people.  And  I  need  it.  It 's  the  reverse 
of  blessings  that  have  fallen  on  my  head  lately.  I 
have  something  to  tell  you.  Of  course  you  know  al 
ready.  My  iniquities  are  published  far  and  wide.  In 
deed,  it  has  not  been  easy  for  me.  Some  day  I  will 
tell  you  both  the  whole  story.  There  have  been  scenes 
for  painters,  and  diplomacy  enough  to  run  the  govern 
ment  the  remainder  of  its  existence.  But  I  must  talk 
fast  to-day,  for  mamma  is  walking  in  the  rose-garden 
with  the  countess  and  Frau  von  Funnel,  and  may 
send  for  me  any  moment."  She  hesitated  an  instant. 
"  Erich  von  Paalzow  has  always  been  celebrated  for 
his  courage,  you  remember,  Hugo.  He  has  proved  it 
again,"  she  continued,  demurely.  "  He  is  determined 
to  marry  me." 

"I  don't  think  he  will  regret  it,"  Hugo  returned 
cordially,  extending  his  hand. 

"  But  the  delicious  part  of  the  matter  is,  they  — 
mamma  and  Frau  von  Funnel  —  have  actually  sue- 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  413 

ceeded  in  persuading  the  marquis  that  it 's  Elsa  he 
wanted  all  the  time,  and  Elsa  needed  no  persuasion. 
Oh,  do  let  me  laugh  !  At  home  it  is  impossible.  We 
are  too  proper  and  serious  in  this  business.  The  Frau 
Major  is  the  cleverest  woman  in  Europe.  She  origi 
nated  the  transfer.  But  mamma  was  not  slow  in 
assimilating  it.  And  the  two  have  not  only  converted 
the  marquis  to  the  new  faith  but  made  him  supremely 
happy.  And  there  is  no  embarrassment.  We  are  the 
sweetest  family !  We  are  perfect.  Elsa  always  having 
been  one  of  the  Frau  Major's  specialest  special  pets, 
and  most  responsive  to  her  saccharine  methods,  it  is 
the  Frau  Major  who  will  be  in  a  certain  sense  the  real 
Marquise  de  Vallion.  Benevolence  will  flourish  here 
like  a  green  bay-tree  next  winter,  and  there  '11  be  an 
epidemic  of  matrimony.  See  what  you  have  done, 
Gabrielle!  But  don't  molest  Elsa.  Don't  interfere 
with  her  future  after  ruining  mine." 

"You  bring  the  freshest  and  most  entertaining 
news,  Mercedes,  one  wonder  after  another  ;  but  might 
I  inquire  what  possible  connection  Frauleiii  von  Dohna 
has  with  this  romance  ?  " 

"  Ah,  don't,  Mercedes  !  "  protested  Gabrielle,  fear 
ing  the  mischief  dancing  in  her  friend's  eyes,  and 
about  the  corners  of  her  mouth. 

"  She  ?  She  has  done  it  all.  She  is  a  dangerous 
person  and  a  match-maker.  She  came  one  morning  to 
me  and  objected  in  plain  language,  very  plain,  to  my 
engagement  with  the  Marquis  de  Vallion.  She  in 
sisted  in  the  most  peremptory  manner  upon  my  falling 
in  love  with  somebody  else,  more  to  her  taste.  She 
urged  me  violently  to  come  up  here  and  fall  in  love 
with  you.  But  I  was  considerate,"  —  she  gave  the 
word  a  certain  audacious  emphasis,  —  "I  refrained. 


414  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Still,  her  suggestion  remained  in  my  mind.  Some 
of  the  extraordinary  things  she  had  said  had  an  un 
pleasant  way  of  occurring  to  me  when  I  looked  at  the 
marquis.  Then  I  looked  at  him  as  little  as  possible. 
Indeed,  the  diamonds  he  brought  always  edified  me 
more  than  his  personal  appearance.  I  tried  to  forget 
her  sermon,  but  it  clung  to  me.  Finally  I  acted  upon 
it.  I  fell  in  love  with  Herr  von  Paalzow,  entirely  in 
my  effort  to  lead  a  better  life  and  please  Gabrielle.  It 
created  an  indescribable  tumult  in  my  family,  a  per 
fect  cyclone.  Mamma's  consternation  was  simply  pa 
thetic,  until  the  Frau  Major  von  Funnel  came  gliding 
in,  perfect  mistress  of  the  situation,  and  showed 
mamma  how  she  could  still  be  happy.  Mamma  is 
—  mamma — and  not  dull,  but  only  one  mortal  woman 
could  have  executed  this  coup  d'Stat.  Few  would 
have  had  the  genius  to  even  design  it,  but  only  she 
the  skill  to  sweetly  burrow  it  along  to  completion. 
Sift  powdered  sugar  and  it  shall  be  sifted  unto  you 
again,  is  her  unerring  motto,  and  with  it  she  wins  her 
tens  of  thousands.  But  now  you  understand,  Hugo, 
that  if  Gabrielle  had  not  induced  me  to  like  Herr  von 
Paalzow,  Elsa  would  not  marry  the  French  Embassa- 
dor,  hence  Gabrielle  is  a  match-maker." 

"  You  of  course  are  at  liberty  to  believe  as  much 
of  this  as  you  like,  Count  Hugo,"  Gabrielle  said, 
laughing  heartily,  "  but  I  would  merely  beg  to  state 
that  when  I  talked  with  Mercedes  that  morning,  I 
had  never  seen  Baron  von  Paalzow.  I  did  not  even 
know  such  a  man  existed." 

"  That  is  an  unimportant  anachronism.  It  does 
not  injure  the  general  character  of  my  history  in  the 
faintest  degree.  Oh,  I  will  come  and  tell  you  some 
tales  !  I  will  act  some  scenes  for  you.  I  will  bring 


THE  OPEN  DOOR.  415 

Herr  von  Paalzow.  What  we  two  have  suffered! 
Talk  about  the  way  of  the  transgressor  being  hard  ! 
The  way  of  the  transgressor  is  easy,  easy  as  waltz 
ing.  It  's  when  the  transgressor  turns  about,  and  tries 
to  be  an  honest  woman,  that  her  path  becomes  almost 
impossible.  Never  have  I  had  such  obstacles  set  be 
fore  me,  and  never,  whatever  I  did,  have  I  so  horrified 
Mrs.  Grundy  as  since  I  have  conscientiously  endeav 
ored  to  act  upon  Gabrielle's  advice." 

"  It  was  a  very  free  translation  of  my  advice." 

"  I  can't  help  that.  I  hold  you  responsible.  If 
Herr  von  Paalzow  does  not  treat  me  well,  does  not 
make  me  happy  —  and  I  require  considerable  to  be 
happy  —  I  shall  blame  you.  And  I  have  told  him, 
that  if  the  Marquis  de  Yallion  should  disappear  soon, 
which  is  highly  probable,  —  I  have  thought  for  some 
time  that  he  was  in  danger  of  shrivelling  and  blowing 
away  like  dry  thistle-down,  —  and  if  he  should  leave 
our  silly  little  Elsa  a  young  widow  with  all  that 
wealth  and  power,  I  should  simply  die  of  envy.  I 
have  told  Erich  worse  than  that.  I  think  I  have  told 
him  everything,"  she  said  more  seriously,  and  with  a 
straight  glance  at  Hugo  ;  "  but  he  has  n't  blenched 
yet.  He  's  a  brave  man." 

"  Ask  him  to  come  soon  to  see  me,"  he  rejoined. 
"  And  it  's  pleasant  news  you  bring  to-day,  Mercedes. 
I  am  far  too  good  a  friend  to  like  the  idea  of  your 
marrying  old  Vallion.  But  Paalzow  is  one  of  the 
best  men  I  know.  It  seems  to  me  that  you  are  both 
doing  a  very  sensible  thing.  I  '11  give  you  my  bless 
ing  or  whatever  you  choose  to  call  it." 

"  Ah,  Hugo,"  she  said  gratefully,  "  you  always  were 
a  dear  !  We  will  come  soon  together.  We  will  come 
often  if  you  will  let  us.  We  shall  be  here  next  win- 


416  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

ter,  although  we  expect  to  be  ordered  off  to  some  hor 
rid  little  garrison  in  the  spring.  I  shall  be  misera 
ble.  I  despise  small  towns.  I  shall  quarrel  with  all 
the  women  and  flirt  with  all  the  men.  I  have  warned 
Erich  categorically.  Fancy  me  rusticating,  and  Elsa 
in  a  palace !  Then  the  weddings.  Hers  comes  first. 
That 's  Funnel-salve  for  the  marquis's  feelings.  It  will 
be  large,  superb,  embassadorian  !  Mine,  the  oldest 
sister's,  follows,  small,  modest  and  meek  like  Erich  and 
me,  —  and  his  pay.  Elsa  is  going  to  have  seven 
bridesmaids,  —  seventy  if  the  Frau  Major  thinks  best. 
And  I  am  going  to  have  only  one,  if  I  can  get  ner. 
Can  I,  Gabrielle?" 

She  chattered  on,  and  they  laughed  at  her  droll 
complaints,  while  her  eyes  were  shining  with  a  soft 
and  happy  light. 

Meanwhile,  she  was  thinking  :  — 

"  Poor  old  Hu<ro  !     I  wish  that  I  had  come  before. 

o 

I  have  been  a  selfish  coward.  It  is  n't  so  bad  as  I 
feared.  But  I  should  die  to  be  always  here.  It 
would  be  like  living  with  a  ghost.  I  shan't  mind  so 
much  when  I  can  come  with  Erich.  And  no  doubt 
one  can  accustom  one's  self  to  it.  Gabrielle  has  evi 
dently.  He  does  look  handsome,  but  so  ghastly,  and 
his  eyes  are  like  flames." 

And  Hugo  told  himself  that  she  was  beautiful,  she 
was  graceful,  she  was  charming,  she  was  good,  but 
was  it  she  who  had  caused  him  such  agony  and  de 
spair  but  a  few  short  months  ago  ?  Was  it  longing 
for  her  that  had  nearly  driven  him  mad  ?  A  great 
wonder  and  incredulity  descended  upon  him,  and  a 
sense  of  the  elusiveness  and  mystery  of  the  human 
heart. 

His  grave  gaze  lingered  upon  Gabrielle. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  417 

The  two  were  summoned  soon  to  have  tea  with  the 
others,  and  Hugo  realized,  only  when  they  were  gone, 
that  he  and  Gabrielle  had  scarcely  exchanged  a  word. 
He  would  have  said,  without  considering,  that  they 
had  had  a  long  and  profoundly  intimate  conversation. 
He  had  still  his  episode  to  relate  to  her,  and  she  her 
long  adventure.  Dietz,  too,  had  evidently  much  on 
his  mind,  and  even  the  countess  had  not  divulged  her 
intentions.  They  were  like  a  mass  of  storm  clouds, 
ready  to  discharge.  Yet  the  less  he  saw  of  her  the 
better.  In  September,  she  would  probably  go  south 
after  all.  His  mother  could  simply  set  her  adrift,  and 
might  have  fifty  plans  in  the  meantime.  Poor  little 
girl,  so  bright  and  brave,  and  not  dreaming  Sofie 
Gobert  was  her  Damocles  sword.  It  would  be  the 
happiest  thing  for  Gabrielle  to  go  anywhere  away 
from  his  mother,  still  being  dismissed  would  be  scarcely 
pleasant.  He  must  ask  her  about  those  people  in 
Berlin.  It  would  be  well  for  her  to  go  somewhere  as 
soon  as  possible.  Yes,  she  ought  to  go  away.  He 
could  not  bear  the  look  in  her  eyes  much  longer.  He 
would  not  ask  her  to  come  to  him.  It  was  better 
so.  When  she  came  accidentally,  with  others,  he  would 
see  her,  but  he  would  not  beg  her  to  come,  not  once 
again. 

He  had  gone  too  far  the  night  she  came  home.  He 
should  not  have  kissed  her  hands,  at  least,  not  in  that 
way.  He  must  listen  to  his  mother's  talk  of  the  at 
mosphere  of  sympathy  which  she  desired  in  her  own 
house,  and  he  must  see  the  loveliest,  freshest,  sweet 
est,  truest-hearted  girl  on  this  earth  turned  out  of 
it.  The  house  happened  to  belong  to  him,  and  him 
alone,  a  wise  provision  on  his  father's  part  against 
the  danger  of  sudden  and  capricious  sale.  The  idea 


418  THE  OPEN  DOOR. 

was  distasteful  to  his  mother,  and  she  ignored  it 
with  consistency,  always  saying  "  my  house,"  and  up 
to  this  moment  it  had  merely  amused  him.  But  now 
he  might  not  shelter  under  his  own  roof  the  woman 
he  loved,  must  even  welcome  any  chance  that  might 
drive  her  away.  Welcome  it  for  her  sake,  he  reflected 
with  an  infinitely  sad  smile. 

Gabrielle  herself  interrupted  his  musings. 

"  I  have  not  come  to  talk  with  you  now,"  she  began 
brightly,  unconscious  as  a  bird  that  pours  forth  its 
glad  song  when  one's  heart  is  heavy.  "  I  have  so  very 
much  to  tell  you,  but  I  have  escaped  only  an  instant. 
I  was  asked  to  bring  Mousey's  blanket  from  my  room, 
the  gold  embroidery,  and  I  am  on  my  way.  They  are 
going  immediately  and  without  me ;  and  Herr  Dietz 
is  at  the  side-door,  and  says  he  would  like  to  show 
me  something  and  begs  me  to  come  with  him.  He 
says  he  will  show  it  to  you  later.  But  it  would  be  a 
great  favor  to  him  if  I  would  look  at  it.  Don't  you 
think  that  is  very  strange  ?  He  seems  odd,  but  I 
really  cannot  say  whether  he  is  glad  or  sorry." 

"  Oh,  he  's  sorry  enough." 

"  But  I  am  not  sure  this  is  about  Roschen,"  she 
said  doubtfully. 

"  It  must  be,  or  he  would  not  come  to  you.  It  's 
a  letter,  I  presume." 

"  But  would  n't  he  simply  bring  a  letter  ?  And  he 
has  a  carriage  waiting.  I  shall  go,  of  course,  whatever 
it  is.  If  it  is  Roschen's  affairs,  it  is  very  painful, 
but  of  course  I  must  tell  him  what  I  know." 

"  Must  you  ?  "  he  returned  in  consternation. 

"  But  ought  n't  he  to  know  ?  She  will  not  tell  him. 
It  would  seem  a  cruel  thing  to  do,  but  I  greatly  fear 
you  or  I  ought  to  tell  him,  if  she  won't." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  419 

"I?  Never !  "  Then  thoughtfully,  "  A  woman  sees 
those  things  differently,  I  suppose.  I  could  not  tell 
him.  I  would  rather  shoot  him.  And  I  don't  see 
why  he  ought  to  be  told.  She  is  the  only  one  who 
can  tell  him." 

She  colored.  "  I  must  go.  I  think  he  ought  to 
know,"  she  reiterated  gently. 

"  I  'd  think  about  it,"  he  returned.  "  And  will  you 
come  to  me  afterwards  and  tell  me  what  has  hap 
pened  ?  " 

Dietz  scarcely  spoke  as  they  drove  out  to  Leslach. 
Always  the  village  !  And  she  found  it  to-day,  in  her 
cooler  mood,  a  more  curious  experience  to  be  sitting 
in  a  droschky  with  Bernhard  Dietz  than  to  hurry  on 
foot  through  the  lane  at  midnight.  He  looked  odd 
to  her  in  his  ill-fitting  Sunday  suit.  She  watched  him 
furtively.  Again  her  instinct  told  her  that  there  was 
repressed  excitement  but  no  grief  in  his  face. 

The  carriage  stopped.  Dietz  opened  a  gate  and 
led  her  through  a  narrow  court,  where  children  paused 
in  their  play  to  stare,  and  a  head  appeared  miracu 
lously  at  every  window.  Dietz,  who  could  not  us 
ually  pass  a  child  without  a  word  or  a  caress,  looked 
neither  to  the  right  nor  the  left.  Once,  with  a  soft 
but  mechanical  movement  he  lifted  a  sprawling  baby 
out  of  her  way.  He  unlocked  the  door  of  an  unfin 
ished  room  in  a  shed,  and  relocked  it  after  her.  A 
cloth  was  nailed  carefully  across  the  window,  and  some 
thing  tall  and  draped  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  floor. 

Dietz  turned  and  looked  at  her.  It  seemed  to  her 
that  he  wished  to  speak,  to  give  her  some  introduction, 
some  explanation,  —  but  could  not.  There  was  a 
struggle  of  some  kind  in  his  mind.  He  smiled,  shook 
his  head,  and  removed  the  damp  cloths. 


420  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

It  was  a  girl's  full-length  figure  in  clay,  revealing, 
beneath  scant,  short  clinging  skirts,  an  open  blouse, 
and  rolled  up  sleeves,  free,  long,  lithe  limbs,  and  the 
chaste  breast  but  faintly  beginning  to  round  into  the 
curves  of  dawning  womanhood.  With  one  uplifted 
arm  steadying  a  water-bucket  on  her  head,  one  bare 
foot  thrown  firmly  forward,  the  other  lightly  poised, 
the  charming  head  turned  slightly,  with  a  smile  on  the 
full,  parted  lips,  as  if,  going  reluctantly,  she  would 
fain  listen  to  the  gossip  of  the  women  by  the  fountain ; 
listening,  smiling,  looking  back,  seeking,  longing  for 
her  pleasure,  she  seemed  moving,  so  real  were  the 
vigor  and  grace  of  her  pose.  And  more  touching 
than  her  mere  beauty  was  the  flowerlike  freshness, 
the  innocence,  the  rare  maidenliness  which  the  loving 
soul  of  the  artist  had  breathed  into  his  creation. 

Dietz  saw  the  excitement  in  Gabrielle's  face.  Its 
cause  he  could  not  know,  but  it  emboldened  him  to 
speak. 

He  drew  a  long,  deep,  happy  sigh. 

"  Now  I  've  got  that  done,"  he  began,  and  his  beauti 
ful  voice  was  shy  and  unsteady,  "  I  am  willing  to  die. 
I  don't  want  to  die.  I  am  happy.  There  's  no  man 
on  earth  so  happy,  and  with  so  much  reason.  But 
there 's  a  feeling  that  everything  has  come  to  an 
end.  That 's  what  I  mean.  You  are  a  woman,  and 
you  know  her.  You  see  her  every  day.  Somehow  I 
can  talk  to  you,  if  you  don't  mind." 

Gabrielle  murmured  an  unintelligible  assent. 

"  It  has  been  so  long,  so  long  that  this  thought  has 
been  in  my  head.  Since  I  was  fourteen,  and  carved 
my  first  rough  ivy-leaf  at  the  night  school.  It  has  n't 
been  a  happy  thought  always.  It  has  troubled  me. 
It  has  been  a  kind  of  pain.  I  could  n't  do  it,  and  I 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  421 

could  n't  forget  it.  I  'm  a  slow  man,  and  I  'm  not  a 
clever  man.  A  fellow  who  began  with  me  was  clever. 
He  could  model  everything.  They  sent  him  to  Rome. 
He  was  a  good  fellow,  and  quick.  I  did  n't  envy  him. 
I  did  n't  want  to  model  everything.  I  only  wanted  to 
model  her.  This  is  the  way  I  always  saw  her,  but  I 
could  n't  seize  her.  I  've  dreamed  of  her  a  thousand 
times  like  this.  She  has  waked  me  from  my  sleep 
standing  before  me  so.  But  I  was  too  dull  to  reach 
her.  It  was  in  me  somewhere,  but  it  was  n't  in  my 
head  or  in  my  hands.  It  was  n't  where  I  could  get  at 
it.  I  never  should  have  gotten  at  it  if  Count  Hugo 
had  not  sent  me  to  Italy.  He  has  helped  me  find  it. 
He  has  given  me  my  dearest  wish.  And  I  'd  rather 
owe  it  to  him  than  to  any  man  on  earth." 

He  paused,  and  smiled  like  a  seraph.  She  clasped 
her  hands  tighter  and  more  painfully  together,  and 
waited  for  the  slow,  soft,  tranquil  voice. 

"  I  was  as  frightened  as  a  boy  when  I  came  home 
last  week.  I  thought  I  'd  got  it,  but  I  was  n't  sure.  I 
had  seen  so  much  that  the  great  ones  had  done,  and  I 
saw  how  they  went  to  work,  —  bold  and  fine  all  at 
once,  you  know,  —  with  a  strong  eye  and  a  light  hand 
and  a  deep  soul,  and  I  thought  I  had  caught  some 
thing.  But  I  had  my  fears,  and  they  made  me  sick. 
You  see  if  a  thing  has  been  coming  and  going  before 
your  eyes  since  you  were  a  little  chap,  you  can't  be 
sure.  But  this  much  I  knew,  — if  I  could  n't  catch  it 
and  fix  it  now,  I  was  lo^t  for  all  eternity.  Well,  I  've 
hardly  seen  anybody.  I  have  been  queer  even  to 
Count  Hugo,  who  has  done  it  all.  I  suppose  I've 
been  half  crazy.  I  locked  myself  in  here,  and  went 
at  it.  And  I  've  caught  it  at  last.  It  can  never  run 
away  from  me  again." 


422  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

He  gazed  with  ineffable  tenderness  at  the  pure  con 
tours. 

"  There  she  is,"  he  murmured,  whether  to  himself 
or  to  her,  Gabrielle  was  not  sure.  "  That 's  her 
pretty  throat.  That 's  her  dimple  in  the  left  cheek. 
That 's  Rbschen.  God  bless  her  !  Why  I  never  hol 
lowed  out  the  heart  of  a  rose  without  longing  to  carve 
her  lips  instead.  I  never  worked  at  any  head  without 
seeing  her  sweet  face,  and  aching  to  chisel  it.  It  has 
been  a  kind  of  hunger  all  these  years,  and  often  I  have 
feared  I  would  carry  it  to  my  grave.  But  there  she 
is.  I  wanted  you  to  see  her.  You  know  something 
about  such  things,  and  you  know  her." 

"  Yes,  I  know  Rbschen." 

"  I  don't  deserve  it,"  he  broke  out.  "  I  don't  de 
serve  such  happiness.  It 's  enough  to  make  a  man 
afraid.  There  were  some  debts  I  've  had  hanging  on 
to  me  since  I  started.  I  shall  get  the  last  one  paid 
next  month.  In  October,  Rbschen  and  I  are  going  to 
be  married.  She  has  promised.  And  this  off  my 
mind  !  Why,  it  makes  a  man  as  free  as  air !  " 

"  Roschen  has  promised  you  ?  " 

"  Yes.  She  never  would  set  the  time  before.  She 
is  young  yet,  and  likes  her  freedom  like  any  young 
thing.  And  I  could  n't  urge  her  until  I  got  the 
.money  all  paid  off.  But  I  'm  going  to  get  a  lot  of 
money  for  this,"  he  said  shyly.  "  It  seems  odd,  but 
my  professor  says  so.  I  showed  it  to  him  first.  He 
always  looks  at  all  my  work.  He  says  it  is  good.  He 
says  he  never  believed  it  was  in  me,  and  now  I  must 
go  on.  That  is  the  first  mistake  he  ever  made  with 
me.  I  never  shall  go  on.  I  don't  want  to  go  on. 
Why,  I  'm  thirty  years  old  and  slow.  This  is  all  there 
is  in  me.  This  is  me.  This  is  Rbschen." 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  423 

"  And  she 's  the  best  girl  in  the  world.  It  is  n't 
like  meeting  a  pretty  girl  on  a  holiday  and  being 
pleased  with  her,  no  matter  if  you  like  her  ever  so 
well,"  he  went  on  softly,  his  smiling  eyes  fixed  on  the 
figure.  "  I  've  always  known  Roschen.  She  's  like 
my  own  life.  Why,  I  carried  her  in  my  arms  when 
she  was  a  baby.  She  looked  like  a  peach,  even  then. 
And  I  've  watched  her  going  to  school,  and  helped  her 
carry  bundles  and  draw  water,  and  seen  her  growing 
up,  always  sweet  as  sunshine,  always  kind  and  good, 
and  working  with  her  mother,  and  making  the  house 
bright  because  she  was  in  it,  always  tidy." 

"  Yes,  she  is  tidy,"  gasped  Gabrielle. 

"  And  gay  as  a  lark,  and  sweet-tempered,  when  an 
other  girl  as  beautiful  would  have  had  her  head  turned 
long  ago.  For  far  and  near  she's  the  beauty,  and 
ever  since  she  was  a  little  thing  all  the  strangers  that 
stopped  to  water  their  horses  at  the  fountain  have 
talked  of  her  hair  and  her  eyes  and  her  smile  ;  for  she 
has  a  way  with  her,  and  everybody  that  sees  her  likes 
her,  and  the  old  folks  are  proud  of  her,  and  she  could 
look  higher,  but  she's  promised  to  marry  me  in 
October  —  that 's  Roschen." 

He  was  tranquil.  He  had  spoken  from  his  over 
full  heart  to  this  gentle  lady.  He  folded  his  arms, 
and  regarded  his  work  in  silence. 

"  It  is  beautiful,"  Gabrielle  began,  uncertain  of  her 
voice.  "  I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart.  I  will  tell 
Count  Hugo  everything." 

"  When  it  is  in  marble,  he  shall  see  it  first." 

"  I  will  tell  him  how  beautiful  it  is,  and  he  will  be 
proud  of  you,  as  I  am,  proud  to  have  you  for  his 
friend.  And  I  can  't  begin  to  tell  you  what  I  feel  — 
perhaps  later ;  and  I  wish  you  'd  take  me  home  now." 


424  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Her  voice  was  so  tremulous  and  abrupt  that  he 
feared  she  was  ill.  He  hastened  to  take  her  back  to 
the  villa.  She  passed  through  the  house,  meeting  no 
one,  went  straight  to  Hugo's  room,  and  entered  with  a 
pale,  set  face.  Throwing  herself  into  the  great  easy- 
chair,  — 

"  O  Hugo!"  she  cried,  "  O  Hugo!"  and  burst  vio 
lently  into  tears. 

He  watched  her  with  a  drawn  look  and  longing 
eyes.  This  was  one  of  the  things  it  was  better  to 
bear.  If  he  were  a  strong  man  she  might  be  weeping 
in  his  arms  and  on  his  breast  instead  of  on  that  chair- 
back.  She  had  come  to  him  in  her  sorrow.  She  had 
called  him  by  his  name.  He  loved  her.  Therefore  it 
behoved  to  him  to  be  wise.  He  had  not  believed 
his  mother's  fickle  stab  would  wound  her  so  deeply. 
Surely,  she  had  sounded  every  note  in  that  gamut. 
All  had  come  as  he  had  foreseen,  and  she,  —  she  the 
bright  and  strong  and  beautiful,  —  with  her  clear, 
brave  eyes  and  resolute  lips,  was  weeping  now  like  all 
her  predecessors,  sobbing  passionately,  and  he  could 
not  comfort  her,  could  not  protect  her,  could  not  mur 
mur  loving  words  in  her  ear,  could  not  touch  her 
though  she  was  within  reach  of  his  hand.  Cousin 
Marie  had  flung  herself  into  that  same  chair,  he  re 
membered,  but  how  different  her  tears  had  seemed. 
He  had  not  had  the  remotest  desire  to  kiss  them  away. 
He  smiled  a  long,  sad,  patient  smile. 

Gabrielle  turned  her  wet,  flushed  face  toward  him. 

"  How  good  you  are  !  Any  one  else  would  have 
talked  to  me.  Forgive  me.  Indeed  it  is  not  like  me. 
I  rarely  cry." 

"  Why  should  you  let  her  hurt  you  so  ?  "  he  asked, 
with  well-controlled  kindness. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  425 

She  looked  a  quick  inquiry. 

"  Oh,  it  is  not  that.  It  is  not  she.  And  it  is  no 
misfortune.  It  is  something  beautiful.  That  night, 
when  everything  sad  and  dreadful  was  poured  into  my 
ears,  I  was  quite  calm.  But  your  friend  Bernhard 
Dietz  has  almost  killed  me  with  his  loveliness.  If  I 
had  listened  to  him  a  moment  longer  I  should  have 
broken  down  like  a  baby,  there  in  his  little  shed." 

Hugo,  holding  himself  in  an  iron  grasp,  thought 
that  her  fresh,  young,  candid  smile  was  harder  to  bear 
than  her  tears. 

"  And  I,  like  a  prig,  was  going  to  take  things  into 
my  own  hands  and  direct  them  !  I  was  going  to  tell 
him.  I  thought  he  ought  to  know.  I  was  ready  to 
tangle  up  the  affairs  of  Providence.  As  if  an  angel 
did  not  stand  at  his  right  hand  !  As  if  he  needed 
me  !  As  if  that  man's  boundless  love  had  not  strength 
to  warm  and  purify  any  heart,  even  Roschen's  !  " 

"  I  did  n't  think  you  would  hurt  Dietz  much,"  he 
replied  with  his  quiet  smile.  "  I  knew  him,  and  I 
knew  you.  Can  you  tell  me  now  what  happened? 
Don  't  hurry.  I  can  wait." 

She  rose,  looked  at  the  great  chair,  pushed  it  aside, 
saw  a  low  stool,  drew  it  near  his  sofa,  and  seated  her 
self,  earnest  and  unconscious  as  when,  years  before,  at 
home  in  the  firelight,  she  had  told  important  tales  to 
her  papa. 

"  There  is  so  much  to  tell,"  she  said,  as  if  he  had  a 
claim  upon  her  confidences.  "  But  I  must  begin  at  the 
end." 

Warmly,  eagerly,  her  eyes  still  wet,  her  voice  rich 
with  emotion,  she  repeated  Bernhard' s  words,  and  told 
Hugo  how  her  heart  had  swelled  with  pity  and  pain, 
listening  to  the  man's  simple  story  of  patience  and 


426  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

tenderness  and  faith.  How  she  trembled  for  him,  see 
ing,  instead  of  his  pure  ideal,  only  a  cold,  sordid,  and 
grasping  girl,  yet  how  after  all  she  ceased  to  pity  or  to 
fear,  for  such  nobleness  and  such  love  were  in  them 
selves  divine,  and  who  dared  say  what  miracles  they 
might  not  work?  Roschen  was  silly,  vain,  heartless, 
false,  but  she  could  not  —  no  woman  could  —  look  in 
Bernhard  Dietz's  tranquil,  trustful  eyes,  and  not  con 
fess  her  weakness  and  be  forgiven. 

Hugo  listened  with  utter  incredulity  as  to  any  saving 
grace  to  be  evolved  by  any  means  whatever  from  Ros- 
chen's  inner  consciousness.  But  he  had  not  the  heart 
to  make  skeptical  comments  and  cool  Gabrielle's  en 
thusiasm. 

He  watched  her  intently.  He  realized  what  she 
in  her  eagerness  did  not  remember,  that  this  was  the 
first  time  they  two  had  been  alone  together,  in  free 
and  close  companionship.  It  might  be  the  last.  He 
saw  deep  down  in  her  heart  as  she  spoke,  and  per 
ceived  treasures  of  richness  and  sweetness.  His  smile 
grew  more  resolutely  patient.  His  eyes  never  left  her 
face. 

She  confessed,  among  other  things,  that  she  blamed 
herself  in  a  vague  way  for  Roschen's  escapade.  It 
was  not  easy  to  say  what  she  had  left  undone,  but  if 
she  had  been  wiser  and  kinder,  perhaps  the  foolishness 
might  not  have  assumed  such  dimensions.  She  thought 
with  the  best  will  in  the  world  there  were  still  a 
great  many  remains  of  old  prejudices  in  her,  and  echoes 
of  stupid  traditions  of  rank  and  dignity  and  the  rela 
tions  of  mistress  and  maid.  She  reproached  herself 
for  a  certain  negligence  toward  Roschen,  a  carelessness 

O      O  ' 

of  her  danger,  and  an  indifference  to  her  claim  upon 
her  as  a  woman,  near  and  misguided. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  427 

Hugo  had  his  private  opinion  of  this  question  of 
conscience  also,  but  listened  without  comment. 

She  related  to  him  every  detail  of  her  adventure  at 
Leslach.  It  filled  him  with  profound  tenderness  that 
she  fearlessly  and  pitifully  revealed  to  him  that  whole 
tale  of  sorrow  and  sin,  —  her  voice  unfaltering,  her 
clear  eyes  seeking  his  own.  • 

Having  told  him  her  hopes  and  plans  with  regard  to 
the  woman,  who  she  declared  was  a  strong  character, 
full  of  delicacy  and  feeling  beneath  the  coating  of  bru 
tality  her  life  had  given  her,  Gabrielle  now  sat  silent 
and  thoughtful,  a  little  smile  of  reminiscence  hover 
ing  over  her  lips,  when  Babette  brought  in  a  note 
with  many  apologies,  for  she  thought  the  gracious  frau- 
lein  was  out,  but  had  seen  her  a  moment  ago  from 
the  garden,  where  she  was  walking  with  Mousey. 

"  It  is  from  your  mamma.     May  I  read  it  ?  " 

"  I  would  undertake  to  read  that  telepathetically," 
he  replied. 

She  opened  it  and  read  it  beneath  his  gaze. 

"  It  is  impossible  !  "  she  said  softly,  and  passed  it  to 
him. 

MY  DEAR  FRAULEIN  VON  DOHNA  (it  began)  : 
You  are  too  clever  not  to  have  already  perceived 
that  our  relations  are  too  strained  to  be  prolonged,  and 
not  to  have  foreseen  my  request  that  out  of  considera 
tion  for  my  nerves,  which  require  the  utmost  tranquil 
lity  and  sympathy,  you  will  seek  the  protection  of  some 
other  family.  I  shall  be  happy  to  facilitate  your  go 
ing  in  every  way  in  my  power,  and  am  ready  to  send 
you  with  escort  to  your  relatives  in  Berlin.  But  spare 
me,  if  you  please,  any  discussion.  I  am  fully  decided. 
In  my  own  house,  I  require  a  more  restful  and  con- 


428  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

genial  atmosphere,  and  in  my  chosen  companion  affec 
tion  and  above  all  perfect  ingenuousness. 
Sincerely  yours, 

ADELHEID  VON  KRONFELS. 

She  sat  so  near  him,  staring  incredulously  into  his 
eyes,  yet  -an  impassable  chasm  separated  them.  Not 
even  in  this  moment  of  insult  might  he  protect  her. 

"  I  fancy  your  relatives  in  Berlin  will  not  be  able  to 
surpass  that,"  he  said  quietly. 

"  My  relatives  in  Berlin,"  she  repeated  slowly. 
"  Why,  you  do  not  think  "  -— 

He  stared  at  his  old  friend,  the  swallow.  He  could 
not  look  in  her  eyes  and  speak  the  words  which  he  was 
resolved  to  say.  She  was  too  lovely,  too  near  and  too 
dear  to  him.  There  was  a  softness  in  her  bearing,  —  it 
might  be  pity,  it  might  be  something  else,  —  but  what 
ever  it  was,  it  was  dangerous,  and  the  sooner  she  went 
the  better.  His  mother's  characteristic  missile  was  a 
blessing  in  disguise. 

"  It  is  a  disgusting  letter,"  he  began.  "  We  don't 
need  to  waste  any  words  on  it.  But  it  will  be  a  happy 
release  for  you.  It  is  a  mystery  to  me  that  you  have 
borne  your  life  here  so  long.  I  wonder  that  you  stayed 
here  a  week.  There  are  three  daughters  in  your  cousin's 
family  in  Berlin,  I  think  you  said  once,"  he  remarked 
with  considerable  animation.  "  You  will  be  sure  to  like 
Berlin." 

She  merely  looked  at  him. 

"  There  is  everything  to  interest  you  there." 

"  I  am  interested  here,"  she  returned  softly. 

"  This  is  a  dull  little  place." 

"  It  is  not  dull  to  me.     I  should  be  sorry  to  leave 


THE    OPEN  DOOR.  429 

"  But  —  after  that  letter  "  - 

"  She  may  change  her  mind." 

"  I  think  not  in  this  case." 

"  The  letter  impresses  one  because  it  is  a  letter,"  she 
hastened  to  explain.  "  Words  seem  stronger,  written. 
Why  should  I  take  it  more  seriously  than  things  she 
has  said  ?  It  would  be  a  pity  to  take  it  too  seriously. 
It  would  be  a  pity  to  feel  offended,  —  and  go  among 
strangers  —  to  leave  —  you  all." 

Her  voice  appealed  to  him  cruelly.  He  would  not 
look  at  her. 

"  Oh  no,  I  cannot  go  merely  because  she  is  displeased 
with  me.  She  has  been  often  displeased,  and  after 
wards  quite  friendly.  I  came  to  stay  a  whole  year. 
It  would  be  absurd  to  go  away  because  she  wrote  that 
letter  in  a  mood  that  may  change  completely  to-mor 
row.  I  cannot  go.  I  know  people  well  at  last.  I  have 
work  to  do,  earnest  work.  With  that  strong  woman, 
there  is  no  end  to  what  one  may  do,  —  good  human 
work.  And  I  want  to  be  better  to  Roschen.  I  have 
something  to  atone  for  to  her.  And  perhaps  I  can 
induce  her  to  tell  Bernhard.  And  I  must  see  the 
statue  in  marble.  And  I  must  be  Mercedes'  brides 
maid.  Why,  I  seem  to  have  taken  root  here !  It 
would  be  a  little  like  dying  to  go  away.  Do  you  not 
see?  I  cannot  go  !  " 

She  gave  a  score  of  reasons,  all  indeed  but  the  one 
supreme  reason,  but  that  he  heard  trembling  sweetly  in 
her  voice. 

"  Why  do  you  not  look  at  me  ?  Why  do  you 
not  speak?  Why  do  you  not  tell  me  I  cannot  go 

?M 

^V,,^J       . 

Still  he  was  silent. 

"  Ah,  Hugo,  Hugo  !  "  she  murmured  desperately. 


430  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

At  this  he  fixed  his  sorrowful,  yearning  eyes  upon 
her. 

"  You  must  go,"  he  said.  "  If  you  will  not  go  for 
your  sake,  — then  in  pity  for  mine  !  " 

With  a  rapid  movement  she  was  kneeling,  her  face 
close  to  his  on  his  cushions. 

"  Now  I  will  never  leave  you,"  she  said  solemnly. 

He  groaned. 

"  Listen  to  me,"  he  began,  and  in  his  struggle,  his 
voice  grew  stern.  "  I  suppose  this  had  to  come.  God 
knows  1  tried  to  avert  it.  But  let  it  stop  where  it  is. 
Don't  say  any  more.  There  is  no  harm  done."  He 
went  on  with  an  attempt  at  lightness.  "  We  won't  be 
tragic."  His  smile  was  a  miserable  failure.  "  Draw 
that  chair  nearer,  won't  you  ?  You  will  be  tired  kneel 
ing  there.  And  let  us  discuss  it  like  the  good  friends 
that  we  are,  Gabrielle.  Let  us  be  reasonable." 

"I  don't  want  to  be  reasonable,"  she  murmured 
without  moving. 

He  began  again  in  a  different  key  with  a  semblance 
of  graybeard  wisdom  :  — 

"  I  understand  it  all  so  well.  I  understand  it  a 
thousand  times  better  than  is  possible  for  you.  And 
I  shall  never  forget  your  goodness  and  your  pity 
and  your  generosity.  But  to-day  —  I  am  very  tired 
to-day,  —  if  you  would  kindly  leave  me,  —  another 
time." 

He  grew  paler  as  he  spoke. 

She  shook  her  head.     "  No,  no." 

Again  he  pulled  himself  together. 

"  You  are  a  little  romantic,"  he  exclaimed  indul 
gently.  "  It  is  natural  for  a  girl  of  your  temperament 
to  have  her  theories  and  fancies.  But  trust  me.  In 
deed  I  am  your  friend.  Some  day  you  will  thank  me. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  431 

The  only  thing  for  you  to  do  after  that  letter  is  to  act 
upon  it  promptly.  There  is  nothing  else  to  be  done ! '' 

Suddenly  she  put  up  her  arms  and  clung  to  him. 

"Dearest,  I  love  you,"  she  murmured,  and  laid  hef 
head  on  his  breast. 

At  her  touch  he  forgot.  He  seized  her  in  his  arms, 
and  clasped  her  close  and  kissed  her  hair  and  cheek 
many  times  with  hot  and  hungered  kisses. 

Then  he  held  her  face  in  his  hands,  looked  in  her 
eyes  with  nameless  longing,  and  pushed  her  gently 
from  him. 

"  Forgive  me,"  he  said ;  "  let  me  be  an  honest  man." 

"I  love  you,  Hugo." 

"  And  does  that  make  the  crooked  straight  and  the 
lame  walk  ?  "  he  broke  out  bitterly,  at  the  end  of  his 
strength.  "Don't  I  know  that  you  love  me?  But  I 
ought  not  to  listen  if  you  are  mad  enough  to  tell  me 
so.  I  do  not  know  how  it  has  come  that  I  am  listen 
ing  to  such  words  from  your  lips.  You  ought  not  to 
say  them.  I  ought  not  to  hear  them.  We  will  forget 
them.  Ah,  child,  child,  how  hard  you  make  it  for 
me!" 

"  Hugo,  look  at  me.  Don't  turn  away.  Look  in 
my  eyes.  It  is  you  whom  I  love.  What  is  it  one 
loves  ?  A  man's  riding  or  walking  ?  That  would  be 
a  poor  thing  to  love.  I  love  you  —  you  —  you  !  And 
a  thousand  times  better  for  your  sorrow  and  your  lone 
liness,  for  your  dignity  and  your  patience.  You  are  a 
greater  hero  in  my  eyes  than  if  you  were  leading  men 
to  battle.  You  may  send  me  away  now  if  you  will, 
but  you  will  break  my  heart.  For  I  want  nothing  in 
the  world  except  to  be  near  you,  to  be  your  friend,  to 
be  your  love.  It  is  not  pity.  It  is  not  romantic.  It 
is  something  else.  Ah,  Hugo !  " 


432  THE   OPEN  DOOR, 

He  shook  his  head  desolately. 

"  I  shall  never  be  well.     I  am  a  cripple  for  life." 

"  I  know,"  she  sighed,  with  a  tender  smile. 

"  I  lie  here  always  in  the  shadow  of  death.  Who 
knows  when  my  faint  pulses  may  expire  ?  Who  knows 
when  "  —  He  did  not  finish. 

"  Every  soul  that  is  born  lives  always  in  the  shadow 
of  death.  Should  that  make  one  afraid  ?  Is  it  not 
right  to  love  and  be  glad  a  little  while  ?  " 

"  It  would  be  like  being  chained  to  a  corpse.  All 
that  the  world  holds  dear  would  be  lost.  Pleasure, 
gayety,  distinction  "  — 

"  They  are  all  good  in  their  way,  but  did  they  ever 
make  any  one  happy  ?  Is  there  anything  better  than 
love?" 

"  You  do  not  know  what  you  are  doing.  You  do 
not  know  me.  I  am  not  patient.  I  am  rebellious 
and  defiant.  I  have  many  moods.  I  am  irritable, 
bad  tempered,  and  perverse." 

She  lifted  his  frail  hand  and  kissed  it. 

"  Hugo,  you  cannot  frighten  me.  I  would  rather 
be  wretched  with  you  than  wretched  without  you.  But 
I  shall  not  be  wretched.  I  shall  be  so  glad  that  you 
will  be  comforted.  And  you  will  see  how  useful  and 
helpful  you  are,  how  different  it  will  all  be,  how  far 
your  spirit  will  reach  in  wise  thought  and  control,  and 
I  shall  be  your  proud  messenger.  Out  of  this  quiet 
room,  out  of  the  depths  of  your  suffering  there  will 
come  power  and  peace.  The  woman  would  not  come 
to  me,  but  she  will  be  glad  to  come  to  you,  Hugo.  She 
will  not  feel  strange  with  you.  It  is  pain  that  draws 
hearts  nearer  together." 

He  covered  his  eyes  with  his  hands  and  breathed 
deeply. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  433 

"  I  ought  not.  I  dare  not.  It  is  incredible.  If  a 
man  were  here  to  help  me  —  to  convince  you !  " 

It  was  long  before  she  spoke. 

"  Hugo,  this  is  all  I  ask.  Let  me  be  your  compan 
ion  next  winter  instead  of  your  mamma's.  You  surely 
will  consent  to  that  ?  There  is  nothing  so  terrible  in 
that.  And  if  you  do  not  like  me,  you  may  send  me 
away,  but  try  me  first."  There  was  a  glad,  sweet 
playfulness  in  her  tone,  a  ring  of  comfort  and  security. 

"  If  I  do  not  like  you  !  " 

"  Because,"  she  continued,  "  toward  spring  papa 
will  come,  and  then  there  will  be  a  man  to  help  you, 
and  if  you  will  agree  to  be  guided  by  him,  I  will  — 
and  oh,  Hugo,  if  he  himself  asks  you,  you  will  no 
longer  be  afraid  ?  " 

"  Ah,  Gabrielle,"  he  sighed,  and  took  her  head  be 
tween  his  hands  and  pressed  it  convulsively  to  his 
breast. 

"  Shall  we  not  leave  it  so  ? "  she  asked.  "  Why 
should  we  distress  ourselves  about  the  future  ?  Is  it 
not  enough  to  be  together?  And  when  papa  and  Lu- 
cie  come  —  you  will  like  Lucie  —  they  shall  decide. 
Only  keep  me  with  you  now,  Hugo.  Don't  let  me  be 
sent  away.  Let  me  be  near  you,"  she  whispered. 
"  This  is  my  place." 

"  But  you  have  not  seen  enough  men,"  he  said  after 
some  time,  and  abruptly  contrasting  people  he  had 
known  in  his  old  brilliant  life  with  this  poor  shadow 
of  his  former  self,  and  crowded  drawing-rooms  with 
his  monotonous  quiet. 

"  Oh,  I  have  seen  so  many,  so  many,"  she  returned 
in  tender  triumph,  "  soldiers  and  statesmen,  and  schol 
ars  and  artists,  but  no  one  like  you." 

"  Poor  little  girl !  " 


434  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Suddenly  he  thrust  the  little  black  book  into  her 
hand.  "  Read  this,  and  then  talk  of  my  dignity  and 
my  patience." 

She  took  it  innocently,  but  as  she  read  her  face  as 
sumed  a  pained  intensity.  She  glanced  at  him  with  a 
strange  and  alarmed  protest,  then  rose  quickly  and 
went  to  the  other  side  of  the  room,  where  he  no  longer 
saw  her.  He  heard  her  turn  the  leaves.  There  was 
a  long  silence. 

She  brought  it  back  with  tears  of  pity  and  terror 
in  her  eyes. 

"  I  cannot  read  it  all !  I  cannot !  I  have  read 
enough.  Let  me  burn  it,  my  poor  Hugo.  Let  me 
burn  the  black  thoughts  that  have  haunted  you  so 
long." 

A  startled  look  answered  her  pleadings.  He  put 
out  his  hand  and  with  distinct  anxiety  closed  it  upon 
hers  that  held  the  familiar  little  volume.  Over  it  the 
two  gazed  with  mute  entreaty  into  each  other's  eyes, 
and  neither  would  give  way.  But  as  he  looked  upon 
her  loveliness,  and  felt  it  near  him  —  and  his  own  — 
and  knew  her  pure  soul  was  near  his  own  soul  for 
all  time,  the  nervous  tension  in  his  pallid  face  relaxed, 
his  trouble  merged  into  profound  calm,  his  eyes  seemed 
illumined  by  a  deep  inner  flame,  as  of  the  spirit,  and 
he  said  with  extreme  gentleness  :  — 

"  Don't  burn  it.  What  I  say  may  sound  strange  to 
you.  But  the  book  has  helped  me.  It  has  been  my 
friend.  It  has  taught  me  something,  and  it  has  occu 
pied  me  and  comforted  me  when  I  had  small  comfort 
else.  I  can't  talk  of  my  infirmities,  Gabrielle.  But 
you  unseal  my  heart.  It  is  as  if  I  spoke  to  my  own 
soul  that  knows  my  burden  is  not  light.  You  see,  for 
months  Lipps  had  to  turn  me  in  my  bed  like  a  log. 


THE   OPEN  DOOR.  435 

He  turned  me  four  times  every  night.  And  there  are 
cramps  that  a  fiend  would  not  have  the  heart  to  wish 
one.  But  enough  of  that.  Such  things  don't  make 
a  man  like  me  good.  They  don't  give  him  either 
sense  or  courage.  They  give  him  black  thoughts,  as 
you  say.  But  the  book  and  all  that  went  to  make  it 
revealed  the  misery  in  other  lives,  taught  me  that  I 
did  not  suffer  alone,  and  that  such  thoughts  are  also 
human  and  have  pursued  men  —  not  always  the  worst 
and  smallest  men  —  pitilessly,  in  all  ages.  I  have  be 
gun  to  believe  that  there  is  a  vast  and  mysterious  pur 
pose  in  it  all,  that  so  much,  so  over-much  grief  can 
not  be  blind  chance ;  that  it  is  best  to  submit  to  the 
Great  Law,  call  it  by  what  name  one  will ;  that  it  is 
worth  while  to  endure  without  complaint ;  that  it 
would  have  been  better  to  bear  my  curse  more  quietly 
than  I  have  been  able  to  bear  it ;  and  that  it  is  not 
a  man's  right  to  shorten  his  time  of  dwelling  in  the 
body.  That  time  is  short  at  best.  And  the  Power 
that  put  him  there  is  eternal,  whatever  life  or  death 
comes  next.  But  I  am  an  ill  man.  I  am  a  weak 
man,  a  man  of  shifting  moods.  Who  knows  what 
sinister  doubt  may  master  me  again  ?  Let  me  keep 
the  little  book,  Gabrielle,  I  like  it,"  he  said,  with  a 
faint  boyish  smile.  "  I  may  need  it  sorely.  I  don't 
dare  to  let  it  go,"  he  confessed  with  appealing  eyes. 
"  Now  you  know  what  a  mean  fellow  I  am." 

She  slowly  loosened  her  grasp.  She  withdrew  her 
hand.  She  comprehended.  He  slipped  the  book  into 
its  old  place.  To  die  for  him  that  instant  would 
have  been  rapture.  She  stood  speechless,  moved  by 
the  strength  of  her  pure  passion  and  illimitable  pity. 
She  stooped  and  kissed  his  forehead  with  a  sense  of 
consecration. 


436  THE   OPEN  DOOR. 

Without  in  the  corridor  they  heard  the  approach  of 
an  imperious  voice,  and  the  incessant  tinkling  of  a 
little  bell. 

"  You  have  been  too  much  alone,  Hugo,"  she  said 
simply.  But  in  her  heart  a  voice  cried  with  exalta 
tion  :  — 

"  I  fear  no  evil.  Love  guards  the  door.  And  what 
is  so  strong  as  Love  ?  " 


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